Aliens in the city
by luli27
Summary: Sequel to The Men From the Gate. BB are now a couple and when SG1 comes to visit the squints and Booth in DC, they all find themselves in the middle of a familiar case.
1. Chapter 1

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!!!

**A/N:** Ok, so here it is!! The sequel to **Men From the Gate**. I was going to say long awaited, but really, I dont think it's even been a months since I finished that one. But I know some of you were impatient and to tell you the truth, so was I! I'm not sure how I managed to wait until **Starting Point** was finished but I did and now here it is!!! This is set a week after **Men** and it has the promised smut I teased you with in Men but never gave you. Because of that, this kinda can be seen as a prequel or bridge between the stories. It's pure BB fluff/smut, the story wont begin to move forward until next chapter which will be set some months down the road. Still, I hope you enjoy it!! As always, thanks to Puppet for all her help betaing! Please read, enjoy and review!! You know how much reviews encourage faster posting!!

**Chapter 1**

"Perfect," Dr. Temperance 'Bones' Brennan murmured as she took a step back and admired her handiwork. Her dining room table had been decorated with her fanciest linen tablecloth, four all-in-one clear base candles and rose petals scattered around them. The centerpiece was made up of a dozen short stemmed red roses in a sea green oval glass vase; she'd bought the short stemmed roses as opposed to long stems so that she and Booth could see and talk to each other during dinner.

After a satisfied nod at the table, she gazed around the room to make sure everything was set. She had placed candles of various sizes and widths all around the living and dining rooms, as well as rose petals over the different table surfaces. Though she had never before attempted to set a romantic atmosphere, she'd done her research and was pretty proud of the results.

After another critical once over of the room, to make sure she hadn't missed anything, she walked into the kitchen to check on dinner. She had thought about making her Mac and Cheese but had decided that this evening called for something more. As special as her Mac and Cheese was for them, tonight signaled the beginning of a new phase of their relationship and she wanted to commemorate the occasion with a very special dinner.

To that end, she had poured over magazines and books to find out what a special, romantic evening entailed. She had also thought of asking Angela for her advice, but had decided against it in the end because that would have just led to a lot of questions she didn't want to answer right now. In those magazines and books, she had found more advice than she knew what to do with and had decided to go with simple candlelight and rose's variation.

She had likewise also chosen simple for the menu. For dinner she had selected grilled salmon with mashed potatoes and a side of vegetables - elegant, easy to make and delicious to eat. As much as Booth liked Mac and Cheese, she knew he liked salmon and it was a much more nutritious choice. She had bought a couple of bottles of Chardonnay that she had chilling in the fridge to drink. And for dessert she had bought a strawberry tart; she had briefly considered making it herself but she had been very busy and had instead picked it up at this French bakery close to her apartment.

She checked on the salmon and the mashed potatoes only to find out that the food was coming along perfectly. There really was no reason why it wouldn't be; she'd just checked on it less than five minutes ago. She didn't know why she was so nervous. It wasn't like tonight would be her first time; God knew it was far from that. But it was going to be her first time with _Booth _and that she knew made all the difference; because if they had anything to say about it, this would be their last first time for the rest of their lives

The mere fact that she was thinking about spending the rest of her life with him would be enough to freak her out if she wasn't so sure of both her and his feelings. And that was why tonight was so important; they had both agreed that it'd be best to wait until it could be perfect. Neither one had thought that they'd have to wait a week, though; they had waited three years already and had thought they'd be able to come together soon after they declared their feelings for each other. But Colorado hadn't been the right place and they had been pulled into a complicated case almost as soon as their plane had landed back in DC.

But now the time was finally right, not only was the case finished but they had finally found the time to talk to Cullen. She hadn't thought it was that important but Booth had argued that it was the right thing to do, that it would only help them if it was them that went and told Cullen about their change in status rather than let him find out on his own. So, yesterday when there was a lull in the case, they'd gone to see him and explained the change in their relationship.

To say that Cullen had not been pleased at the news would be an understatement. He'd been furious, frustrated and more than a little impatient. What he had not been, however, was surprised. The lecture he had given them, which had gone into why the FBI frowned upon romantic relationships between partners and into why the fact that Brennan was not employed by the Bureau was irrelevant, had been too well thought-out and planned for him to have come up with it on the spot. They had both been too preoccupied with the outcome of the meeting to really pay attention to such details, though.

Cullen had not separated them despite all the reasons for it because they had one of the highest case solving records in the Bureau. He had placed them on a three-month probation period and had sternly warned them that even one screw up in the field or one case compromised in court because of their relationship in that time and their partnership would be immediately terminated. Brennan had opened her mouth to argue that a hundred and one things could mess up a case and it wasn't fair to penalized them for it but Booth, knowing that that was the best they were going to get, had ushered her out of Cullen's office before she could get into an argument with his boss.

Booth and Brennan had been so busy with their usual bickering on their way out that they had completely missed the small smile that flittered across Cullen's face at their antics. He had been glad to see that things hadn't changed; if he was a betting man, he'd bet the new turn in their relationship would only strengthen their partnership. He actually had no intention of breaking them up unless he had no other choice, but there was no reason for them to know that. A bit of pressure was always good to promote superior performance in agents.

Brennan had not been too happy with the meeting as she had not felt she really expressed what she wanted to say. Booth had been too nervous about Cullen's reaction to let her say more than a few words. That was why she had gone back to talk to Cullen while Booth was occupied with paperwork a few hours later. She hadn't planned on it but there were some things that needed to be said.

Cullen hadn't been surprised at seeing her again; he'd known Booth had kept a tight rein on her during the meeting and he'd known her well enough to know she couldn't be kept quiet forever. He had been surprised by what she had said, though.

Brennan was the type of person that gave a 100 percent of her self when she decided on a course of action. Having committed herself to a relationship with Booth, she now was completely dedicated to making it work. Like she told him on that alien planet, as important as her work was, if it came down to a choice between her job with the FBI and being with him, there was no contest. While her work with the FBI had filled a need of hers she hadn't even known she had, being with him . . . well, being with him completed her (as corny as that sounded and she cringed every time she thought it). Being with him allowed her to be more than she was alone and no job was worth risking that.

She had gone to tell Cullen exactly that. She had been as non-confrontational as she was able to be but she had made it clear that she had no interest in working with any agent other than Booth and if Cullen were to separate them, she would cease consulting with the FBI. As Booth had predicted, Cullen had not taken the news well; he had reacted as if Brennan was blackmailing him. She had hastened to assure him that that had not been her intent; that she was there merely to let him know of her plans. He hadn't been completely mollified, she now remembered with a frown, but he had had no option other than to take her at her word. He also hadn't liked Brennan's parting suggestion that Zack was always available to take her place if she chose to concentrate on her work for the Jeffersonian.

Regardless of Cullen's reaction, the deed was now done. Everyone now knew that she and Booth were a couple. Thankfully, the reaction from Camille and the powers that be at the Jeffersonian had been much more favorable than Cullen's. As long as she conducted herself professionally while at work (and she had no intention of ever doing otherwise), they had no interest in how she led her private life.

A knock on her door broke her reverie and she came back to the present with a jolt. The knock meant that Booth had arrived and right on time. Taking a deep breath, she passed a hand through her hair and smoothed the other one down her dress. After closing her eyes for a few seconds, she walked towards the door and opened it.

As expected, Booth was waiting on the other side. He was wearing a white dress shirt and black, pleated trousers with a belt. He was carrying a dozen long stem red roses, which he was supposed to hand her but which fell to his side when he got a good look at her.

"Bones, you look," he began to say, as she stepped aside to let him walk in, "you look amazing. Beautiful," he added with a sigh.

"Thank you," she accepted the compliment, with a smile, as she again ran her eyes up and down his body. "You look very good yourself," she told him, with a grin.

"Thanks," he told her, but he grimaced, as he looked down at himself and then at her again. "Though, I feel I'm a little underdressed."

"No, you're not," Brennan assured him. "As you can see, I'm not wearing shoes," she pointed out, as she held up her right foot.

"So, I see," Booth told her with a grin as he slowly ran his gaze up and down her body again. She was wearing a knee length, midnight blue baby doll dress; it was made of silk and crinkled chiffon with a shirred bodice, spaghetti straps and a tied charmeuse Empire waist which fell to a full, fluid skirt.

It was an elegant, beautiful dress, which she had dressed down by wearing her hair down, minimal make up, no jewelry and no shoes. The effect was oddly erotic and Booth swallowed hard before bringing his eyes back to hers.

"Are those for me?" she asked, pointing at the roses he still held by his side. Enjoying his reaction but, deciding for the moment, to not comment on it.

"Yes," he said with a rueful grin. "They are," and he handed them to her. She accepted them with a grin and went to the kitchen to find a vase to put them in.

"These are lovely," she told him, as she walked away. "Thank you."

"Well," he told her, as he looked around the room for the first time. "It looks like you don't need any more flowers." Since she was no longer in the room to distract him, he was able to finally appreciate the atmosphere Brennan had created. "Bones, the room looks incredible."

"I'm glad you like it," she said, as she walked back in and placed the vase with the roses in the middle of the coffee table.

"Yes," he said, as he gazed around the room again. "It must have taken you a lot of time," he said in awe; not quite believing that Brennan had done such a romantic gesture.

"Not really," she denied with a shrug. "Once I knew what needed to be done, the plans fell into place relatively easy."

"Ah," Booth nodded, wondering what she meant by 'once she knew?' Since it was Brennan, it could mean a number of things.

"Dinner is ready," she said, as she stepped back from the coffee table. "Shall we eat?"

"Sure," Booth said and then followed her from the living room. He hoped that dinner would relax both of them and that the nerves they both seemed to have would settle down. "Do you need some help?" He asked her, as he stopped at the threshold to the kitchen.

"No, thanks," Brennan told him, as she picked up the salad bowl. "Everything's ready; just need to serve it. Go on and sit down," she urged him, as she walked by him and into the dining room.

"So, what's for dinner?" he asked, as he sat down. "I mean besides a salad," he paused and looked at her, as she sat down and asked with a grin, "There is something besides the salad, right?"

"Yes, Booth," she answered patiently, as she placed her napkin across her lap. "There's more than just salad, don't worry. Now, eat your salad and I'll bring the next course out afterwards."

"Can I just skip the salad?" he wheedled, as he picked on said salad. "And just jump into the good part?"

"No," she said firmly. "You have to eat that salad if you want to eat 'the good part'. So, eat up."

"Oh, come on, Bones," he whined, even as he started to eat. "You can be soooo mean, you know?"

"Yes, I know," she responded with a shrug and a small smile. "I am very mean; wanting you to eat healthy so you'd live longer."

"Oh, Bones," he said, as he smiled his charm smile. "Does that mean that you want me to live longer?" he asked, as he relaxed further into his chair.

The familiar banter had succeeded in settling those nerves that had been making them both so jumpy and the rest of the dinner followed their now familiar pattern. They talked about the case for a while before they agreed that it wasn't the place for it. Booth then told her of Parker's latest pranks and she told him of her nieces and how nice it was to have her brother in her life again. He went on to say that he thought Cullen had taken their news fairly well and he was glad they'd only gotten probation and hadn't gotten separated.

She muttered a few words and argued that she hadn't been put on probation by her employer; in fact, Cam had congratulated her and told her she was happy for them. She really didn't see why his employer got a say in how she lived her life. He only sighed and told her it'd be better for all concern if she just got over it. She pouted for a few seconds until he commented that she reminded him of Parker when she made that face.

She scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh and he once again marveled at the similarities between her and his six year old. She glared at him for a few seconds before giving in and chuckling too. After they calmed down, she told him that Angela was driving her crazy asking for details and he said that if Hodgins knew what was good for him, he wouldn't even dream about asking him for any details. He did own a gun after all and was not afraid to use it.

"Booth," she said, with a shake of her head, as she leaned back in her seat and enjoyed her wine. "If you shot even half of the people you threaten to, you'd be in therapy for the rest of your life."

"Ah, but Bones," he argued with a slight grimace. "I am in therapy now and haven't shot even a third of the people I'd like to shoot. Seems to me, maybe I could shoot a few and then there'd be a real reason to put up with Sweets," he added, thoughtfully.

"Booth," she told him severely, as she leaned closer to the table. "Don't even joke about that. You know what happened the last time you shot something when it wasn't an emergency. Do you want to be suspended again?"

"I was only joking, Bones," he said, thinking that there was no way in hell he'd risk being suspended now; not when the last time had led to her meeting Sully. "Relax. I promise I won't shoot any of the squints – no matter how much they provoke me."

"You better not," she ordered him, as she stood up and started to pick up the dishes. "I really don't want to have to train another agent when I just got you broken in," she added, with a smirk, as she walked into the kitchen.

"Just got me broken . . .?" he repeated, incredulously. "Bones!" Her laughter floated behind her while he sputtered, not able to come back with a retort. After a while, he gave up and grinned at her audacity. He got up and followed her to the kitchen. "Hey, Bones, leave that. Come on, let's dance," he told her, as he walked up behind her and put his hands on her waist, to pull her to the living room.

"Wait, Booth," she said, evading his hands and walking to the refrigerator to put away the remnants of dinner. "We don't want it to spoil, do we?" She asked and he shrugged, as if he couldn't care less. With a sigh, she tried again, "Wouldn't you like to be able to have some strawberry tart later?"

With a grin, he nodded. He had really enjoyed dessert but at the moment there were other things on his mind besides food, believe it or not. As soon as the food was put away, he took her hand and pulled her to the living room where the music had been playing all evening.

"Booth," she protested, laughing, even as she willingly walked with him. "I still have to wash the dishes!"

"The dishes can wait, Temperance," he told her softly, as he put his arms around her and started to dance. "Let's dance now, ok?" he asked softly, as he leaned forward and gently kissed her.

"Ok," she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder after they finished kissing.

The song was in Spanish and though he was able to understand a few of the phrases, because he had dated a Hispanic woman in law school, he didn't understand the whole song. He thought of asking Brennan for a translation but the feel of her in his arms soon drove that thought out of his head.

_Y fue tan fácil quererte tanto/ __And it was so easy, loving you so much_

She buried one of her hands in his hair and wrapped her other arm around his back, while she nuzzled his neck. He sighed at the feel of her lips on his skin and bent his head to kiss her shoulder after he pushed her hair out of the way. His hands swept up and down her back and pulled her closer to his body.

"Temperance," he said, as one of his hands cupped her neck and he used that hold to tilt her head back. He stared into her eyes for a few moments before bending down to kiss her. The kiss started slow and sweet, but soon turned hard and deep. "Temperance," he groaned when he pulled back. "Are you sure?" he asked, wanting to make sure they were both on the same page.

_Algo que no imaginaba/ __Something that I didn't imagine  
__Fui a entregarte mi amor con una Mirada/ __Was to give you my love with just a look_

"Yes, Seeley," she said, using his given name so that he knew she was serious and not swept in the moment. "I'm sure. We've waited long enough."

"Yes, we have," he whispered, as he leaned forward again and took her mouth. His hands swept down her back again, this time coming back on her sides, so that he caressed the sides of her breasts. He moaned when she reached down, grabbed his ass and pulled his pelvis into hers. "Bones," he groaned again, as he started to kiss his way down her neck.

"Booth," she whispered, as she arched her neck to make it easier on him. "Maybe we should . . . ah," she trailed off with a shudder, when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Maybe," she tried again in between pants, "we should . . . take this to the . . . ah . . . bedroom."

"Good idea," he said with a grin, as he pulled back from her neck. He reached down as if to pick her up but Brennan jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist before he could do anything. "Ok, this works too," he told her with a naughty grin as he shifted his hands to her hips to hold her against him.

_Algo que no imaginaba/ __Something I didn't imagine  
__Fui a perderme en tu amor/ Was to lose myself in your love_

As he walked towards her bedroom, he let his hands explore her body and in so doing, he discovered something that made his heart skip a beat. "Bones," he said, disbelievingly, "aren't you wearing panties?"

"I guess you'll have to find out, won't you?" she asked, as she kissed and nipped his neck.

"I can't believe you're not wearing underwear," he repeated, shaking his head, as he let her legs come down to the floor next to her bed.

"Well," she told him with a naughty grin, "I told you I wanted tonight to be informal."

"Informal?" he repeated, laughing. "Well, then don't you think you're still overdressed?"

"I guess I am," she answered, following the game. But when she reached up to take off her dress, he batted her hands telling her he wanted that privilege. With a nod, she showed him the side zipper and hook-and-eye closure. He deftly unhooked and unzipped the dress. With one look into her eyes, he reached forward and, after brushing her hair behind her shoulders, gently hooked his fingers on the dress' straps. His fingers lightly grazed her skin, as he pushed the straps over her shoulders and down her arms.

She shivered at the light caress, but otherwise stayed still, as the dress floated down her body to pool around her feet. He finally took his eyes from hers and sent them on a path over her body when the dress touched the floor. She inhaled sharply, as the fire in his eyes flared into a blaze at the sight of her naked body. With a small smile, she stepped from the dress and towards him.

"You're the one that's overdressed now, aren't you?" she asked, as she reached forward and started unbuttoning his shirt. He was so absorbed by the bounty before him that he didn't react to her bold actions, until he felt her hands at the waistband of his pants. But when he reached to stop her, she insisted that it was her turn. With a grin, he agreed that it was only fair. A few seconds later, his pants joined her dress, as he shrugged out of his shirt and it too joined the other garments on the floor.

With a come hither smile, Brennan took a few steps back towards the bed. He grinned and stepped out of his trousers, taking the time to reach down and take off his socks. By the time he reached the bed, Brennan had already turned down the comforter and sheets and was lying down, waiting for him.

_Tengo que decir que eres el amor de mi vida/ __I have to tell you that you are the love of my life_

"You're lovely," he said, reverently, as he lay down next to her.

"Thank you," she told him with a soft smile. "You're . . . very well structured yourself," she told him with a grin, as she remembered their long ago conversation. He grinned back before leaning forward to kiss her.

"I love you," he told her softly, pulling only a few inches back from her mouth so that their breaths mingled. "I love you too," she whispered back, as she reached her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her for a deep kiss. Soon, they had both lost themselves to three years worth of unreleased passion.

After a few more hard and deep kisses, he began to kiss his way down her neck and towards her chest. When he reached her breasts, he kissed all around them in ever tightening circles, ignoring the hard nipples that trembled as they waited for his kiss. After a while, Brennan tired of his teasing and, with a growl, buried her hands in his hair and pulled his mouth right where she wanted it.

With a low laugh at her impatient move, he gave in to her pleas and drew her tight nipple into his mouth. He lightly nipped it before suckling deep into the warm cavern of his mouth. He reached up with his hand and pinched her other nipple, not wanting it to feel neglected.

"Oh, Booth," she moaned at the sensations that shot straight from her nipples to her clit. "Harder," she asked, as she arched her back closer to him. Booth complied and after switching breasts, he pinched and suckled her harder. She moaned again and moved her hands from his hair and sent them to explore his back, even as she drew her right leg over his left hip.

It was his turn to groan when her inquisitive hands reached his ass. While she left one hand clenched on his ass, the other moved around his hip and towards his groin. When she reached his cock, she took it in a tight grip that broke his concentration and had him drop his head to her chest, and grit his teeth, in an effort to control his reaction.

"Bones," he said, warningly as he picked up his head and looked her in the eyes. "You better slow down if you don't want this to end pretty soon."

"Pretty soon sounds good to me," she said around a moan, as he had recovered and was now pinching her nipples again.

"We have all night, Temperance," he protested, even as his free hand stroked down her stomach towards her wet, throbbing center.

"All night?" she groaned. "We've waited three years already; I don't want to wait another three minutes, let alone all night." Despite the intensity of the moment, he couldn't help but laugh at the typical Brennan response.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're impatient?" he asked, grinning into her eyes.

"Yes," she answered with a grin of her own, "You, all the time."

"That's because you are," he insisted, but a tightening of her fist around his hard cock as she pumped him, convinced him that maybe fast wasn't such a bad thing in that particular instance.

"Booth," she asked. "Why don't you shut up and staaarrtt. . ." whatever she'd started to say ended in a moan, as Booth chose that moment to comb his fingers through her wet curls. "Oh, oh!!" she cried out, as his thumb massaged her clit. "oh, god, oh, god!!" she panted, as she thrust her hips into his hand and tightened the hand she still had on his ass.

"Booth, damn it!" she cried out a few moments later when he seemed content to continue to tease her. "I want you. NOW!!" she demanded, as she shifted so that he was lying between her wide open thighs.

"Not yet, Temperance," he denied, keeping his cock away from her entrance by sheer force of will and brute strength. "I don't know if you're ready."

"I'm ready!" she cried out, frustrated. "Believe me, I'm more than ready," she insisted, but he had to find out for himself and without warning, thrust two fingers deep into her heat. "Fuck!!" She screamed at the sudden invasion, as her hips arched forward for a deeper penetration and her inner muscles clenched tightly around his fingers.

"Shit," Booth hissed at the incredible feel of her tight heat around his fingers. He retreated, only to thrust back in a bit more forcefully. But as he discovered earlier, she enjoyed the rougher caresses.

"Booth!" she panted. "I'm ready. Please!! I'm so ready. Take me!!"

That order from the lips of Dr. Temperance Brennan was impossible for Seeley Booth to resist. Before he was fully conscious of doing it, he shifted and in one smooth thrust, he buried himself deep inside the love of his life, finally taking her and making her his.

They were both so close to the edge than only a few deep thrust were needed before they climaxed together. Booth was able to pull back a few seconds before, so that they were looking into each other's eyes when the orgasm overtook them. It took them a few minutes before they recovered from the most intense orgasm of their lives. When Booth was able to draw a full breath and string two words together, he shifted to the side, taking his weight off Brennan's body. That movement made it easier for her to recover her breath.

Without needing to speak, they shifted until he was lying on his back and she was laying half on top of him with her head pillowed on his chest, her arm around his waist and her leg between his legs. She reached down blindly until she located the covers and drew them over both of them as she relaxed on his chest. Neither felt a need to speak; they had already said everything that needed to be said between them. Tonight had just been the physical expression of the love they had declared over a week ago.

She sighed and closed her eyes, more than ready to go to sleep with his steady heartbeat beneath her ear and his hand playing with her hair. He, however, had something else on his mind.

"Hey, Bones," he said, as he tugged on some of her curls to get her attention.

"Yes?" she answered, sleepily.

"What's this song?" he asked, tilting his head towards the door, as if to better hear the song that was coming from the living room. "It's played a few times tonight, hasn't it?"

"Yes," she answered, after a few seconds of listening to it. "I programmed it so that it would repeat every few songs."

"Why?" he asked curiously. The music for the evening had been varied from classical to romantic ballads in English, Spanish and if he was not mistaken French. The variety hadn't surprised Booth, who knew Brennan had an eclectic taste in music. But this was the only song that had played more than once, as far as he could tell and he was curious as to why she'd programmed it like that.

"Because," she began to answer slowly, as she drew figures on his chest. "That song, well, that song sort of reminds me of how you make me feel." She confessed, finally looking up at him through her lashes.

"Yeah?" he asked with a silly grin, absurdly touched at the admission. At her nod, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, before demanding, "Well, now you have to translate it."

She frowned for a minute before sighing and reached for her Ipod that was laying on her nightstand. She could recite the lyrics from memory but it'd be much better if they listened to the song as she translated it. It was a beautifully slow song, with mostly a piano and guitar accompanying the singers. She looked for the song and then gave him one earphone and put the other one in her ear before turning it on.

Softly, so that he could hear the translation but still hear the song, she began to translate:

Todo cambió cuando te vi/ _Everything changed when I saw you_  
De blanco y negro a color me convertí/ _From black and white to colors, I was converted_  
Y fue tan fácil quererte tanto/ _And it was so easy, loving you so much_  
Algo que no imaginaba/ _Something that I didn't imagine  
_Fui a entregarte mi amor con una Mirada/ _Was to give you my love with just a look_

Oh no Oh no no  
Todo tembló dentro de mí/ _Everything trembled inside of me_  
El universo escribió que fueras para mí/ _The universe wrote that you were for me_  
Y fue tan fácil quererte tanto/ _And it was so easy, loving you so much_  
Algo que no imaginaba/ _Something I didn't imagine  
_Fui a perderme en tu amor/ _Was to lose myself in your love_

Simplemente pasó/ _It simply happened_  
Y todo tuyo ya soy/ _and now I'm all yours_

Antes que pase más tiempo contigo amor/_Before more time goes by with you, love_  
Tengo que decir que eres el amor de mi vida/ _I have to tell you that you are the love of my life_  
Antes que te ame más escucha por favor/ _Before I love you more, listen to me please_  
Déjame decir que todo te di/ _Let me tell you that I gave you everything_  
Y no hay cómo explicar/ _And there's no way to explain_  
Pero menos notar/ _But even less to note_  
Simplemente así lo sentí/ _I simply felt it like this_  
Cuando te vi/ _When I saw you_

Me sorprendió todo de ti/ _I was surprised by everything you did_

De blanco y negro a color me convertí/ _From black and white to color I was converted_  
Sé que no es fácil/ _I know it's not easy  
_Decir te amo/ _To say I love you  
_Yo tampoco lo esperaba/ _I wasn't expecting it either  
_Pero así es el amor_/ But that's how love_ is  
Simplemente pasó/ _It simply happened_  
Y todo tuyo ya soy/ _And now, I'm all yours_

Antes que pase más tiempo contigo amor/ _Before more time goes by with you, love  
_Tengo que decir que eres el amor de mi vida/ _I_ _have to say that you're the love of my life_  
Antes que te ame más escucha por favor/ _Before I love you more, listen to me please  
_Déjame decir que todo te di/ _Let me say that I gave you everything  
_Y no hay cómo explicar/ _And there's no way to explain_  
Pero menos dudar/ _But even less to doubt  
_Simplemente así lo sentí/ _I simply felt it like this_  
Cuando te vi/ _When I saw you_

Todo cambió/ _Everything changed_  
Cuando te vi/ _When I saw you_

When the song ended, they stared into each other's eyes for long moments before Booth was able to say anything.

"You're right," he agreed, after he cleared his voice from the knot that the song had created in his throat. "It perfectly explains how you make me feel too." With a soft smile, he leaned forward and sweetly kissed the love of his life.

**A/N: **The song is called "Todo Cambio" by a mexican group Camila. It's a beautiful, very slow song, perfect for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!!!

**A/N:** So, here's the next chapter. Sorry it took a week but the other one shots kind of snuck up on me and wouldn't leave me alone. But here it is. I'm going to try and update this story at least once a week. I want to thank Puppet for all her help and encouragement and to everyone that reviewed and that's following this story with as much enthusiam as Men. I'm so glad you're liking it!! Hopefully this chapter won't dissappoint you; I know, there's a bit more SG1 than usual but I needed it to advance the plot. Ok, that's it, let me know what you think!!

**Chapter 2 **

"Sweetie," Angela said, as she walked into Brennan's office, almost six months later. "What are you doing two weeks from this weekend?"

"Nothing special," Brennan answered, without looking up from the file she was reading.

"Are you sure?" Angela persisted. Ever since her best friend had finally jumped her hunky FBI partner, her weekends were no longer spent at the lab and it was that much harder to get her to come out and spend girl time at the mall. It turned out that Brennan had more interesting and important things to do now, and Angela couldn't really argue with them.

"Yes, I'm sure," Brennan answered, after a few moment's of thought. "Why? Do you need something?'

"Yes," Angela answered promptly and sat down in the chair in front of Brennan's desk. "I was talking to Vala last night and it turns out that Jack and Sam's first wedding anniversary is two weeks from this weekend!"

"That's nice for them," Brennan commented with a smile. "But what does that have to do with me? Have they invited us to Colorado for the party? I don't know if I want to go all that way just for a party, Angela. I think Booth has Parker that weekend and he won't . . ." 

"No, that's not it," Angela denied, interrupting the list of excuses Brennan was giving her. Parker was one of those important things that Angela couldn't argue against. But that shouldn't be a problem. "Jack has a lot of important meetings all the week, the one before the anniversary, here in DC. And though, he can get to Colorado pretty quickly with well, you know how," Angela said, as she looked around to make sure no one was listening to them, even though they were alone in Brennan's office.

They'd been given such strict instructions, and were told of everything that could happen to them if they had disclosed anything connected to the Stargate, that Angela was paranoid about letting anything slip. For someone used to freely speaking about whatever thought entered her mind, whether it be appropriate or not, this constant guarding of her words was a strain.

"Anyway," she went on. "Apparently neither one wanted anything more elaborate than a quiet dinner."

"That sounds nice," Brennan commented, thinking that a quiet night to celebrate their anniversary sounded just like Jack and Sam's style.

"Maybe," Angela said, doubtfully. "But Vala and I think that a party would be much more appropriate. After all, those two went through some hell before finally being able to be together."

"Angela," Brennan warned. "If they want a quiet night, they should have a quiet night. Neither you, nor Vala, should interfere with that."

"We're not interfering," Angela protested, earnestly. "But don't you think they should celebrate such a milestone with the people they love and that love them?"

"I think," Brennan answered slowly, as she leaned back in her chair. She just knew this was going to be a long conversation. "That they should celebrate it however they want to celebrate it. And that the people they love and that love them should respect that choice."

"Ummm," Angela said, drumming her fingers on the chair's arms. "Well, Vala thinks they don't know what they want; and I agree."

"Isn't that rather presumptuous of you guys?" Brennan asked with a smile, wondering whether she should call Sam and give her a heads up about what their respective best friends were planning.

"Not at all," was the prompt answer. "After all, we just want them to have a good time."

"Ah," Brennan nodded wisely. "Of course you do. And wanting to throw a party has nothing to do with it, right?"

"Not at all," Angela said again.

"Well," Brennan said when Angela just smiled innocently at her. "Are you going to tell me what is it that you guys have planned?"

"Nothing much," Angela answered in a humble tone that Brennan didn't buy for a second. "We thought we'd throw them a party – here in DC."

"In, DC?" Brennan asked, incredulously. "Angela, they live out in Colorado."

"Jack works here in DC," Angela argued.

"Yes," Brennan agreed. "But you know he barely even sleeps here. And all their friends are over there in Colorado. Why would you want to throw the party here? And why in the world would they agree to that?"

"Don't worry about their agreeing," Angela waved that problem off. "Vala is taking care of that. As to why we want to throw it here, well, as I told you, Jack will be busy with meetings all that week. And since Cameron broke his ankle during their last mission, SG1 is grounded for at least a month. So, Vala and I thought it'd be nice if Sam was here that week; you know, so they could spend some time together that way."

"But if Jack will be busy with meetings all that week," Brennan pointed out. "Do you think they'll have that much time together? Even if she's here?" she asked, thoughtfully.

"Well," Angela answered with a shrug. "They can spend the nights together and maybe have lunch and stuff."

"Riiiight," Brennan said, elongating the word, as she thought of another, more probable explanation, after all, thanks to technology available to him, Jack was able to spend every night with his wife already. "And it wouldn't have anything to do with Vala wanting to come to DC for a visit and you guys wanting to spend some time together? Maybe even going shopping?"

"That'll be a side benefit, naturally," Angela answered with a grin. "Do you know that the poor woman has never been to Pentagon City or Potomac Mills? The only malls she's been to are the ones in Colorado Springs."

"Poor woman," Brennan repeated, shaking her head in mock sympathy. "She's been deprived."

"Yes," Angela agreed, ignoring Brennan's sarcastic tone. "Whenever she manages to drag Daniel out here, he takes her to all the museums and apparently always manages to avoid taking her shopping."

"How does she manage?" Brennan asked, pretending to be scandalized at Vala's misfortune.

"Well," Angela answered, as if the question had been genuine, again ignoring the tone in Brennan's voice. "She does a lot of her shopping online; thank God for the internet. It can really be a life saver, you know?"

"So, you've told me," Brennan answered, with a nod and a wry grin; she'd heard about the wonders of the internet more than once before. Though Angela would always prefer going to the stores and seeing and touching before buying, internet shopping could be fun. Brennan thought that as long as Angela was spending money and acquiring things, she'd be happy to use any means available to her.

"So," Brennan asked, getting back to the subject at hand. "Do you need me to help plan the party?"

"No," Angela answered, shaking her head. "I've got it covered."

"That's good," Brennan said, with a small sigh of relief. She knew nothing about planning parties and had even less time to do it. "Then why did you need to know if I'm busy?"

"Because I want to make sure that you're free to come to the party," Angela explained.

"Oh," Brennan nodded. "Well, if you can convince them to let you throw the party here in DC, then, sure Booth and I will go."

"Ok, good," Angela said, with a smile, as she pushed herself up from the chair. "Well, I'll let you get back to your work. I have a lot of calls and plans to make. Talk to you later," she said, with a wave, as she walked out of Brennan's office.

Brennan just nodded and watched her go, with a small smile, even as she reached for the phone to call Booth. She'd better call and tell him about the party so that he didn't make any plans for that night; there'd be hell to pay if they even thought about missing it.

---------------

"Sam!" Vala cried out, as she walked into Sam's lab in the SGC Mountain.

"Hey, Vala," Sam greeted the former space pirate, with a smile, as she looked up from her work.

"What are you working on?" Vala asked, as she flopped down on a stool across from where Sam was working.

"The data we took from Ba'al's lab," was the prompt answer, as Sam sighed and pushed back from the table to stretch. She had been going over the same data for what seemed like forever, though it had only been four hours and she was ready for a break. There was only so much a person could take of staring at the same symbols – even if that person was a workaholic genius.

"Getting anywhere?" Vala asked, with a sympathetic face. She knew how important that information was and she knew that most of the responsibility for accessing it rested on her friend. It was a heavy burden she wouldn't have wished on the other woman, but one which was taken willingly and voluntarily, if only because it was needed and no one else could do it.

"Some," Sam answered with a weary smile. "But not very far and definitely not as fast as I'd like," she added, as the smile turned into a frown, as she looked at the laptop she'd been working on. "Not only is it a lot of information, but it's behind some of the most sophisticated encryption I've ran across."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out, Sam" Vala said, encouragingly. "You always do."

"Maybe," Sam said, not sounding very convinced. "But we need this information now; it's already been six months. God only knows what he's done in all this time."

"He could have just given up," Vala suggested, hopefully and had Sam looking at her in disbelief. "It has been pretty quiet lately," she added with a shrug. "We haven't heard anything to indicate he's planning something."

"I know," Sam agreed. "And that's just what worries me. Ba'al is not one to give up. You know he's still planning to do whatever it is that his plan was."

As much as she'd love not to, Vala had to agree. Ba'al was nothing if not determined and perseverant; he wasn't the only Goa'uld still in power due to luck. And Vala knew that despite the setback he'd suffered six months earlier, he wasn't going to give up.

"Probably," Vala granted. "But there's not much we can do right now."

"I can decode this information," Sam argued, as she went back to work.

"Yes, of course," Vala nodded. "But you've been working on it for months now, with no rest. I think it's time you took a break from it – a proper break, not just a few hours away from it."

"Vala," Sam said slowly, shaking her head. "I can't; we need to know what information this contains."

"Sam," she insisted. "You've been going over that stuff non-stop for six months; to the point that I'm sure you're seeing it in your sleep," at Sam's guilty look, Vala nodded before continuing, "see! You need to take a step back. You need to take a break and then come back and see it with fresh eyes. Maybe then you'll see something you've been missing."

"You could be right," Sam admitted, with a sigh, after a long silence. "God knows I'm getting nothing new. Maybe a break is what I need."

"Excellent!!" Vala grinned, and sat up straighter in her stool, as she prepared to give Sam the news. "Then go pack, because we're leaving for DC!"

"What?" Sam asked, surprised, and not moving, despite Vala's repeated motion to do so. "What do you mean we're going to DC?"

"I mean," Vala said slowly, as if talking to a child. "That we're going to DC, so you need to go pack."

"Vala," Sam said, patiently, as she pressed her thumb and forefinger against the bridge of her nose. "Why are we going to DC?"

"Because your one year wedding anniversary is in two weeks!" Vala told her, as if that were news to Sam. "And we need to get there and start planning the party!!"

"I know when my wedding anniversary is Vala," Sam protested, with the small smile, that talking about her wedding, marriage or Jack, always brought to her lips. "And I already told you, Jack is planning on coming here and we're just going to stay in and have a quiet night together."

"Aw, come on, Sam," Vala said. "I know that's what you told me, but that can't seriously be what you want, can it?"

"Yes, it is," Sam answered simply, but firmly.

"But it's such an important milestone," Vala argued. "You guys need to celebrate it in style and with the people that love you the most."

"Vala," Sam said, shaking her head once again. "Neither Jack nor I are the kind of people that like to do things 'in style'. Unless that style is ours – and that means a quiet evening at home," she maintained. Their lives were chaotic and unpredictable enough; they liked their private life to be low key and as normal as they could get – even if that meant being predictable or predictably dull, as Vala had accused them of just last week.

"But Sam," Vala kept arguing, she wasn't one to give up either; in fact, she could even teach Ba'al lessons in perseverance. "Think of it: a party all your loved ones would attend, you in a beautiful new gown, Jack in his dress blues, good food, good music, alcohol for everyone and all the opportunities you want to dance the night away with your husband."

"That does sound kinda nice," Sam allowed, slowly.

"Yes, it does," Vala said, and pushed the point home. "And you'll still have more than a week to spend 'quiet evenings at home' with Jack. Heck, you'd have two weeks to play 'normal housewife'! I'm sure by the end of the two weeks, you'd be more than happy to forget about being _that_ again for a long while."

Sam hid a grin by turning her head; she was sure Vala was right. Two weeks playing housewife was more than enough to satisfy her for a long time.

"I don't know, Vala," Sam said doubtfully. "I don't think Jack will like the idea very much; he hates wearing his dress blues."

"Oh, please," Vala said, waving one hand around to dismiss that argument. "That man would do anything for you and you know it. Besides, you love how he looks in his dress blues, don't you?" She asked and Sam nodded with a smirk, she did love how Jack looked in his uniform. "Then that's all you have to do – tell him how you lust after his body when he's wearing his blues and he'll more than happy wear it for you."

"Vala!!" Sam protested, with a small laugh, well used to the former Goa'uld host's risqué way of expressing herself.

"What?" Vala asked innocently. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

"I can't stop working on this for two weeks," Sam said, ignoring the question and pointing to the laptop to indicate she was referring to the information they'd brought back from Ba'al's base. "Besides, two weeks is not a lot of time to plan a party, even if I had the time to spare."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Vala assured her breezily. "I already talked to Angela and she's more than happy to help. She and I will take care of all the details; you don't have to worry about anything except showing up. And of course," she added with a smile, "go with us when we go shopping for the perfect party dresses."

"Angela is going to help you, huh?" Sam asked, with a small smile.

"Yes," Vala nodded enthusiastically. "We have tons of ideas!! And we'll be having the party at her place . . ."

"At her place?" Sam interrupted her, to ask.

"Yes," Vala answered. "She lives with Hodgins and apparently they have an 'estate'; so, space is no problem. She says we can have it in their 'ballroom.'"

"Ballroom?" Sam repeated, skeptically. "Vala, it sounds like you're planning a big, fancy party. I really don't think Jack will like that; he might go for a party, but not a big bash. He hates those," she finished with a shrug. "And don't," she added, when she saw Vala had opened her mouth to protest, "say that he'll do anything for me. Even if that were the truth, I wouldn't want him to do something he really doesn't like – especially on our anniversary."

"Ok, ok," Vala said, understanding where her friend was coming from. "We wouldn't want to do anything you guys wouldn't enjoy. And it doesn't have to be big; we were thinking it'd be just us, SG1, the squints and Booth, Jacob, Janet, Landry, Hammond, Cassie, maybe Bratac, Walter, Siler, Davis, Ferretti, Mark and his family, if they can make it. Just family and closest friends; I was also thinking that it might be fun if we can get in touch with Thor. I know how much Jack enjoys seeing him."

"Yes, he does," Sam agreed with a smile. "And I guess since everyone you mentioned has the right security clearance it, it'd be fine. It might actually be fun; to have them all together in one place. Kinda like our engagement party – and our wedding, but without all the stress of that day."

"Yes," Vala eagerly agreed, sensing victory. "It'll be like then but without any stress, because Angela and I will take care of everything. As for it being fancy, well, don't you think we deserve an excuse to dress up? After wearing these drab uniforms everyday and running around in deserts and forests, falling into mud, getting shot at and sweating and bleeding every week, don't you think we've earned the right to have a fancy party, wear pretty dresses and wear make up and just look like women?"

"Maybe," Sam agreed, reluctantly. "Though, wearing the kind of shoes that go with those dresses does not sound like fun."

"Speak for yourself," Vala said, with a laugh. "But you can always kick them off if they get too uncomfortable. After all, it'll only be family there. It'll be like those barbeques you guys used to have, where the whole mountain came. Except this time we'll have it in DC, in a ballroom, and we'll all be dressed up."

"You really want to go to DC, don't you?" Sam asked, with an amused smile.

"Well, yes,' Vala admitted, with a grin. "It's been ages since we've had a vacation! And now that Cameron tripped over his own feet and broke his ankle . . ."

"Vala!" Sam protested, trying to sound shocked and failing miserably since she couldn't contain her own grin. "He's had a serious injury; he's in pain and is going to need therapy. We should be sympathetic . . . not laughing at his mis. . . misfortune," the laugh she couldn't contain ruined the disapproving tone she was trying to adopt.

"He tripped coming down a small hill, Sam," Vala defended herself, "on a perfectly peaceful planet, with no hostile aliens following us! He tripped because he was too busy thinking of Camille and not the mission! How can I not make fun of that?"

"He was thinking of Camille?" Sam asked, surprised. "As in Dr. Camille Soroyan?"

"Yep," Vala nodded. "They've been 'seeing' each other for a few months now," she said, in a matter of fact tone. "You didn't know?"

"No," Sam said, shaking her head. "I mean, I knew there were some sparks there when she was here but, I didn't know they had kept in touch after that."

"Ummm," Vala said, in a knowing tone. "I'm not surprised; these last few months you've either been buried in here working or been buried in Jack."

"Vala!" Sam protested yet again. Most of the conversations she had with her energetic team member seemed to include several chastisements.

"What?" Vala asked, opening her eyes wide, in attempt to look innocent. "It's the truth; you're either working or with Jack."

"Yes," Sam agreed. "But do you have to make it sound so . . . tawdry?"

"Well, yes," Vala shrugged. "Otherwise what's the fun?"

"You're incorrigible," Sam said, chuckling.

"Why thank you, my dear," Vala said, with a small bow of her head. "I do try," she said and had Sam laughing out loud. "So, are we on for the party?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, making an executive decision, "Why not?"

"Great!" Vala said, clapping her hands and jumping up, in her enthusiasm. "So, you ok with leaving for DC tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Sam asked, incredulous. "My anniversary is not for two weeks!" she protested again, as Vala started to walk out.

"Yes, but we need to set it all up, we need to go buy dresses, and you need the time off," she said the last very seriously. "So, finish here, go pack up and tell Jack you'll be there to tuck him in tomorrow night. I have to go inform the guys we're leaving for DC tomorrow. Ta-da!" she added, waving her fingers, as she walked out the door.

Sam smiled and shook her head, as she reached for the phone. She supposed there were worse ways to spend the next two weeks than in DC, with her husband and team. And, she thought eyeing the laptop, there was no reason why she couldn't take it with her and work after a few days downtime.

--------------------------

Booth hung up the phone with a smile; trust Angela to plan a great bash in less than two weeks. As much as he disliked posh parties, this one might actually be fun. It'd be good to see the guys of SG1 again; as much as he liked spending time with the squints, God knew they didn't have a lot of things in common, and it was nice to sometimes just hang out with people that had his same background.

He reached out to pick up his coffee mug and found it empty; with a grunt he pushed back from his desk, got up and went out to the break room to get a refill. Once there, he washed the mug and filled it with the newly brewed coffee.

"Hey, Landers," he said, looking up, as the other agent entered the break room. "You look like hell, man."

"Thanks, Booth," Landers answered, sarcastically. "You look as pretty as ever."

"Tough case?" Booth asked, ignoring the sarcasm and the jibe.

"Yes," Landers sighed, as he leaned back on the counter, and took a fortifying sip of his coffee. "Another congressional aide has gone missing," he explained, after a few moments of silence.

"Damn," Booth swore softly. "How many does that make?"

"Five," was the grim answer. "In less than two weeks."

"Any connections?" Booth asked; the fact that aides/assistants to some of the most powerful men in the nation had begun disappearing had the nation's Capital in an uproar. Calls and demands that the case be solved ASAP meant that every law enforcement agency in the District was on call. Though Booth wasn't assigned to the task force, he, along with everyone in the metro area, was kept abreast of the situation by the news reports.

"No," Landers answered, shaking his head, and blowing out a frustrated breath. "They all work for different Congressmen and Senators; no one served on the same committee and there are no pending legislations that all five are involved in. Aside from the fact that they worked for Senators and Congressmen, they have nothing in common. Nothing," he emphasized.

"The fact that they work for Senators and Congressmen is enough of a link," Booth pointed out.

"Yes, it is," Landers agreed, before going back to work, leaving Booth glad that he hadn't been called to join the taskforce.


	3. Chapter 3

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!!!

**A/N:** So, here's the next chapter. Sorry it took a bit more than a week to post it, but it's finally here. Thank you for all the reviews, I hope you like this chapter as much as the ones before. Thanks to Puppet for all her help. Please, read, enjoy and review!!

**Chapter 3**

"Wow!!" Vala said as she walked into Pentagon City and looked around at the four story mall. "Now, this is a mall!!!" 

Angela laughed as she walked up to Vala and threaded their arms together. "I knew you'd like it."

"It's amazing," Vala said, with a sigh, as she leaned on the handrail and gazed out at the long expanse of stores, people and decorations. "It's so pretty . . . and so big!!"

"Yes," Sam said with a grin, as she came to stand beside the other two women. "It's a pretty nice mall, alright."

"Pretty nice?" Vala asked, in disbelief. "This is great!!" She then realized Sam hadn't sounded at all surprised. "You've been here before?" she asked, as she turned to look at Sam.

"Sure," Sam answered with a shrug. "I used to live in DC and I'd been by a few times with Jack."

"_Jack's_ been here?" Vala asked, surprised, "really?"

"Yes," Sam answered with another shrug, "a few times."

"Daniel's never brought me here," Vala complained with a pout. "He's never even mentioned it," she added, as she turned back to study the mall.

"Well," Sam said, defending Daniel. "I'm sure he doesn't know about it."

"How could he not know?" Vala wanted to know. "It's not like it's a small mall and hard to spot," she argued. That much was true; the mall was located across from the Pentagon, on the opposite side of I-395. It was one of the last stops in VA before crossing the Potomac and entering DC. It was a big building and while it was easy to choose the wrong exit and end up at the Reagan National Airport, it wasn't easy to miss.

"Vala," Sam said with a smile. "You know Daniel; do you really think that he would realize that this is a mall – even if he was paying attention to his surroundings?"

"No, I guess not," Vala said, after thinking about it for a few seconds. Everyone knew that unless Daniel was around ruins, he rarely paid attention to his surroundings. "Still, I can't believe Jack comes with you," she insisted. "I have to nag, whine and plead before Daniel agrees to come shopping with me. And I really can't see you doing any of those things."

"No," Sam said, laughing. "I don't do that. Though to be fair, I don't take as long shopping as you do and Jack usually ends up over at Borders waiting for me."

"That's where Booth is," Brennan said, walking up to the trio.

"Sweetie," Angela said, as she turned around and hugged Brennan. "You're here."

"Yes, I am," Brennan said, with a smile, as she returned the hug. The group spent the next few moments greeting each other.

"Booth is at Borders right now?" Angela asked, as they started to walk.

"Actually," Brennan clarified, "he's at Best Sell . . ."

"That's Best Buy, sweetie," Angela corrected her, but Brennan just shrugged and continued speaking.

"He said something about checking out the GPhones. . ."

"IPhones," it was Sam that corrected her this time.

"Yes, that," Brennan said with a shrug. "Though, I'm sure he's going to get something else while he's there. For someone that doesn't really understand computers, he loves to buy electronic gadgets."

"All men are like that, sweetie," Angela said with a grin. Sam and Vala nodded their agreement.

"Anyway," Brennan said, going back to the subject at hand, "He's going to go wait for me at Borders when he's done at Best Buy."

"You know," Sam said, chuckling. "Booth and Jack have a lot in common. That's just what Jack is doing until I'm done."

"So," Vala said with another pout. "Both your guys are shopping by themselves – and on their own initiative?"

"Yes," both Sam and Brennan answered.

"Well, that sucks," Vala said, as she crossed her arms and made Angela laugh.

"I'm sorry, Vala," Angela said, as she threw her arm around the other woman's shoulders. "But if you notice, my guy is not here either."

"Where are Hodgins and Daniel?" Brennan asked, looking at Vala and Angela.

"Oh, they're going to the Jeffersonian," Angela said with a grimace and a wave.

"Yes," Vala said, scrunching her nose. "Apparently, the museum got a new shipment of artifacts from Latin America that Daniel thought might show some Ancient influence. So, he and Hodgins and Zack went over there to check it out."

"I heard of that shipment," Brennan said. "But I didn't know that it showed Ancient influence. Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, looking at Angela.

"Because I knew that you'd want to go with the guys to examine the artifacts," Angela said in matter of fact tone. "And that wasn't going to happen; you were going shopping with us and that's that," she added in a firm tone.

"Yes, I know," Brennan said with as close to a pout as she got – at least, with anyone that wasn't Booth, "but Angela this . . ."

"I know, Bren," Angela said, consolingly. "But you can go over it with them Monday," she added, knowing that even though Brennan and Zack were forensic anthropologists, and Hodgins was an entomologist that didn't believe archeology was a real science when you threw aliens into the mix, they were all more than interested.

Brennan nodded but she wasn't going to wait until Monday. "Where's Cam? I thought she was going to come too," Brennan said as she looked around and noticed for the first time that the pathologist wasn't there.

"She was," Angela answered. "But she decided to stay home and take care of Mitchell."

"Yeah," Vala agreed. "The big baby is milking the 'I'm injured' situation for all it's worth."

"No one else pays him much attention anymore," Sam said. " Cam's just enjoying the novelty."

" Cam?" Brennan asked. "What novelty is she enjoying?"

Sam looked at her, uncomprehendingly, for a few moments before she started chuckling and shook her head, "No, I didn't mean Cam, as in Dr. Soroyan, was enjoying the novelty; I mean Cam as in Mitchell is enjoying being pampered."

"Oh," Brennan said with a small nod, while Angela and Vala shared Sam's chuckle.

"You know," Vala mused, "I think we better either just use their full first names or stick with using their last names because otherwise, this could get real confusing."

"I think you're right," Angela agreed.

"So," Sam said, a few moments later, as they walked off the escalator. They'd been walking for a few minutes by then and Angela and Vala seemed to have a particular destination in mind. "Where are we going?"

"Well," Angela said with a smirk, "first off, we're going to Victoria's Secret."

"Angela," Brennan said with a slight grimace. "Don't you have enough underwear by now?"

"Sweetie," Angela said in a tone of one speaking to a slow child. "The correct term is lingerie and you can never have enough. Ask Booth if you don't believe me."

"Ummm," Brennan said, not convinced.

"Daniel sure likes the lingerie from Victoria's Secret," Vala commented as they entered the store, which was decorated mostly in pink tones. "Though, he's never really said so. Actually," she added with a naughty grin, "he doesn't say much of anything whenever I show him a new piece I've bought. He just sort of grunts and helps me out of it. Ummm, you think that maybe he doesn't like them?" she asked with a wink at the other three women, making them laugh.

"Vala," Sam said, as she stopped by a display. She knew Jack enjoyed that stuff and Angela was right: you could never have too much lingerie. Plus, the stuff was comfortable – well, most of it. "You're incorrigible."

"Yep," Vala agreed happily, not the least bit apologetic. "That's why you love me!"

----------------------

"General O'Neill, sir," Booth called out, as he noticed Jack walking by.

"Booth," Jack said, as he turned and saw Booth standing by the IPhones displays. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you, sir," Booth answered, as they shook hands.

"Major," Jack said with a sigh. "Not only are we off duty, but you're not even in active service, call me Jack."

"Yes, sir," Booth nodded, reminding Jack of Mitchell and his insistence to always be formal. He shook his head, figuring that asking to be called Jack was a lost cause and asked, "So, you were banished here while the girls shop, too, huh?"

"I don't know about banished," Booth said, with a half smile, as he put down one box and picked up another. "But yes, I'm browsing here for a while before I go to Borders to wait for Bones until she's done."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "That's my plan too. So," he added, checking the display for the first time, "in the market for an IPhone?"

"I'm not sure," Booth replied, with a shrug. "I heard so much about them that I thought I'd come and check them out. Don't know if I'll actually buy one, though. It seems like a lot of money for a phone."

"I know what you mean," Jack said. "Though, Sam says that it's so much more than just a phone."

"Does she have one?" Booth asked, curious.

"No," Jack responded. "She needs a secure line; her phone comes from the Air Force, and unfortunately, we haven't upgraded to IPhones yet."

"But she could buy one, surely," Booth commented.

"Yeah," Jack shrugged, as he picked up a box. "If she really wanted one, I'm sure she'd have bought one by now. But she spends so much time on the base or off on her missions, when would she use it? And what would she use it for? She spends most of her days with the guys and we talk all the time."

"Yes, I see your point," Booth acknowledged. "That's the same reason why I'm hesitant to buy it. It's a lot of money and I just don't think I'd use it for anything other than the phone – and I already have one that works perfectly well. Why would I need another one?"

"Yep," Jack said. "So, anything else you want to check out here?"

"Well," Booth answered, looking around. "I thought I'd check out the video games. My son's being asking for this video game 'Guitar Hero', have you heard of it?"

"Yes," Jack said, with a somewhat confused grin, "though I don't understand the appeal. I'm more of the traditional games, myself." He paused for a minute, before adding thoughtfully, "Not that I've had the time to play any games for a long time."

"Yes, me neither," Booth agreed. They started to walk to the video games display and Booth continued, "But I do try to make some time to play with Parker the weekends I have him. Of course, if Bones is around she insists we play educational games – when she's not lecturing me about the benefits of playing outside and not letting him waste away in front of the TV."

"She's got a point," Jack commented. "Kids nowadays spend way too much inside. When I was a kid, I spent most of my days running around outside; I had a hell of a lot of fun."

"So, did I," Booth nodded. "But it's not the same world anymore, is it?"

"No, unfortunately," Jack responded.

"Not only do we have to be careful about them going out," Booth said, "but they're all about the technology now. Parker's also been asking for an IPod. He's not even 6 yet! What does he need an IPod for?"

"He likes a lot of music, does he?" Jack asked, with a small grin.

"Not really," Booth shook his head. "More like his friends are getting it so he wants one too."

"Peer pressure," Jack said with a nod, "is a bitch."

"Tell me about it," Booth said, sounding like a dad close to the end of his rope. Jack's smile was bittersweet as he remembered the few years he had with Charlie. But with a determined shake of his head, he banished those thoughts and the two continued talking about the difference between being a kid now and 50 and 30 years ago.

--------------------------

"Why can't I get that dress?" Brennan wanted to know.

"Because that's not _the_ dress," Angela answered matter of fact. "We have to find the perfect dress for the party and that wasn't it."

"Angela," Brennan protested, "the party is for _Sam's_ anniversary. Shouldn't we concentrate on finding the perfect dress for _her_? Why are you so worried about mine?"

"We'll find the perfect dress for Sam," Vala assured Brennan, while Sam just shrugged when Brennan caught her eye. "Don't worry about that; but just because it's her anniversary doesn't mean we can't all look our best, does it?"

"I guess not," Brennan agreed, sounding a little bemused at the two person attack – usually it was just Angela that railroaded her into buying clothes.

"I've found," Sam whispered, as she leaned closer to Brennan, "that it is easier to just go along with Vala – I'm sure the same is true with Angela."

"Yes," Brennan replied. "And she usually has good taste – though sometimes I do have to reign in her wilder suggestions."

"I can imagine," Sam said, with a grin, before casually turning her head in an unconscious reflex to check out the perimeter. "Oh, crap," she said, wide eyed, as she hastily turned her head back around.

"What?" three voices asked at the same time, as Brennan, Angela and Vala turned to look at Sam.

"What's wrong?" Vala asked again.

"Nothing," Sam answered, with a shake of her head. "Nothing's wrong; I just saw someone I hadn't seen in years and hadn't really expected to see again."

"Ohhh," Angela said, wiggling her eyebrows, "an old boyfriend?"

"Worse than that," Sam replied, with a slight frown. "Kerry Johnson."

"Kerry Johnson?" Angela asked and Brennan turned around to find the person, even though she didn't know who Kerry Johnson was.

"Oh," Vala said and her eyes widen in recognition. "Daniel's told me about her! Where is she??"

"Vala," Sam hissed and stopped her from turning around and making it obvious she was looking for someone. "I don't want her to see us - I really don't want to talk to her."

"I don't blame you," Vala said, with a grimace. "I don't know her and I don't like her either."

"Who's Kerry Johnson?" Angela asked, incredibly curious by then. Even Brennan's curiosity had been piqued.

"She's a CIA agent," Sam answered with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably.

"Ok," Angela said slowly, sharing a confused glance with Brennan. Neither could understand why a CIA agent would generate such a reaction.

"Please," Vala said, rolling her eyes. "She's not just a CIA agent," she added the obvious, making Angela and Brennan look at her for the answers, which she gave after Sam gave a tiny nod. "She's the woman Jack had a 'thing' with a few years ago."

"Jack had an affair?" Angela asked, incredulous; Brennan was likewise surprised – Jack didn't seem the type to have affairs.

"Of course not," Vala answered with a short laugh. "Jack would never cheat on Sam. He was involved with her while Sam was engaged to Pete."

"Pete?" Angela repeated. While Brennan asked Sam, "You were engaged to another man?"

"Yes," Sam answered simply, before deciding that it'd be better if she told the whole story. "It's a long story. The short of it is that after seven years of waiting for something to happen with almost no encouragement from Jack, I gave up. The . . . conflict we were involved in didn't seem to have an end in sight and I wanted more from life than just my career. I wanted a family and when I met Pete, I convinced myself that he was my last hope to have one." She paused a minute, to reflect on those days, before continuing. "So, when he proposed, I accepted."

"Didn't it take you weeks before you finally said yes?" Vala asked, knowingly.

"Yes," Sam admitted, with half a shrug.

"Well, that should have been your first clue," Vala pointed out. "If you can't say yes immediately or at least within 24 hours, you probably shouldn't accept."

"Maybe," Sam allowed. "But Pete was a kind, funny and loving guy. . ."

"Daniel called him a dork," Vala interrupted her but Sam just kept on speaking.

"As fond as I was of him, I was not in love with him. When I finally admitted that to myself, I called it off. I'm just glad that I realized what I was doing before it went any further. Pete's a good man; it wouldn't have been fair to him – or Jack, or me, if I had gone through with it."

Brennan nodded, she understood about being confused about feelings. She was just glad it hadn't taken her as long to understand what she was feeling and acting on it.

"Why don't you like this Kerry person?" Brennan asked, and the other three women looked at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"Because she had the gall to take up with Jack," Vala answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But if they weren't together when it happened . . .?" Brennan started to ask, only to be interrupted by Sam.

"Why does that have anything to do with it?" Sam said with a wide smile.

"I . . . I don't understand," Brennan said, confused. Sam was one of the most logical persons she had ever met – for her to admit to an illogical emotion was disconcerting.

"Sweetie," Angela, as always, was the first to try and explain the uncomprehending twists and turns of social interaction. "You remember how you felt when you found out Booth had taken up with Camille again? And," she added when Brennan started to shrug, "don't tell me you had no reaction."

Brennan thought for a moment before finally stating, "I wanted to scratch her eyes out and serve them to him for dinner."

"Exactly," Angela nodded. "That's why Sam doesn't like that Kerry woman."

"I get it," Brennan said.

"Hold on," Vala said, putting her hand up, and stopping in the middle of the mall. "Hold on. Are you saying that Booth had a thing with Camille?" she asked her eyebrows raised all the way to her hairline.

"Yes," Brennan answered. "They'd known each other for years; they had an affair back then and sometime after she started working for the Jeffersonian, they started sleeping together again. It only lasted a few weeks, though."

"Wow," Vala said and shared a glance with Sam. "You think Mitchell knows that?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "That depends on how open they are with each other, and whether they've gotten to the stage where they're talking about past relationships."

"They seem to be pretty tight," Vala commented.

"I know," Sam agreed.

"There's nothing to worry him, though," Angela said. "Booth and Camille are good friends, but Booth's is completely in love with Bren, here – has been for years, even when he was with Camille. And Camille's known that almost from the beginning."

"She has?" Brennan asked, surprised and, Angela was sure, looking for some reassurance.

"Sure," Angela answered easily. "Everyone, Camille included, knows it's always been you."

Brennan turned her head to hide her half smile before they entered Nordstrom and the search for the perfect dress began again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!!!

**A/N:** So, here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long but well, you know how it is. But I made it extra long to compensate for the tardiness. And I think it should specially appeal to those that are fans of both shows, without taking anything from those that are only Bones fans. I least I hope that's the end result, that's what I wanted to do. Anyway, thanks to Puppet for all her help as always. Please, read, enjoy and review!!

**Chapter 4**

"Ah," Jack said, as he leaned back on his seat. "This is good," he commented as he sipped his cup of coffee.

"Yes," Booth agreed, sipping his own coffee. "It is."

After exploring Best Buy for almost an hour, Booth and Jack were now having a cup of coffee at Borders as they waited for the women to be done with their shopping.

Jack nodded towards the newspaper he'd picked up before sitting down. "Do you know anything else?" On the front page was the latest on the missing congressional aides case – two more had gone missing in the last few days.

"No," Booth shook his head and put down his cup of coffee with a frown, "not really. I'm not part of the task force. It's primarily being handled by the missing persons department and I'm homicide. Frankly, I hope they don't have any reason to call me."

"Yes," Jack agreed. "I can see why you wouldn't want that." There was something in the general's voice that peeked Booth's interest.

"Did you know any of the aids, General?" Booth asked.

"A couple," Jack sighed deeply. "Senator Baily's in the appropriations committee and Blade was the liaison with my office; Gonzales served the same purpose for Congressman Libby, who's in the Armed Services committee."

"I see," Booth said. "I do know that the agents on the case are pretty frustrated," he commented after a few moments of silence. "There's nothing that links any of the victims. Nothing," he repeated with emphasis. "They all come from different backgrounds; they have no hobbies that intercept; their financials do not overlap. They have nothing in common."

"Except that they all work for the men and women that govern the country," Jack added.

"Except that," Booth nodded. "But even then, there's not one thing they were all working on, together."

"Maybe it's about who they work for," Jack pointed out, "and not about what they're working on."

"You're thinking it might be about some sort of ransom?" Booth asked, interested as he broke off a piece of muffin.

"Could be," Jack shrugged.

"But there's been no demand," Booth argued. "Besides, the US government does not give in to demands; everyone knows that. And whatever information they obtain from the aids won't be of any use. The Senators and Congressmen would have already taken care of that."

"I know," Jack agreed and then shook his head as he added, "I'm not sure what's going on. I just know that there has to be some connection, whether it's obvious or not. And that whatever it is that's going on, it has larger implications. My gut's telling me there's more at stake here than first meets the eye," he finished, frowning.

Booth nodded, he knew all about listening to his gut. And then something occurred to him and he asked, "Are you involved in this case?"

"No," Jack answered promptly. "The missing persons are not military personnel, making this a purely civilian matter. It is completely out of my jurisdiction."

"But if you think that there's more going on," Booth pressed, "that it might somehow affect our national security, couldn't you do something to become involved?"

"Yes," Jack replied, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "I probably could but it'd be an uphill battle and I don't think it's a battle I should fight, much less win."

Booth nodded again. He knew what the general meant; while both men believed in the military and in the necessity of the military to defend the country, they also believed that some areas should be strictly under civilian purview. They hadn't gone to war, putting their lives at risk and sacrificing part of their sanity only to come home and undermine the very freedom they fought for.

"If and when," Jack continued, "there's any proof, beyond my gut, that this has any national security implications, that's when I'll get involved. Until that time, it will stay a job for the FBI and other civilian law enforcement agencies."

After that statement, the two men turned their attention to their snacks and commented about where they should go to dinner since the women had made it clear they were all going out that night.

"Where are Jackson and Mitchell?" Booth asked a few moments later.

"Daniel's gone to the museum with some of your squints," Jack answered. "They said something about some new artifacts showing signs of Ancients influence or some such thing," he explained vaguely.

"Ah," Booth said. "I guess they didn't tell Bones about it or she would have gone there instead of coming here," he said with a grin.

"I'd think that's exactly why they didn't tell her," Jack commented.

"You're probably right," Booth agreed. "So, where's Mitchell? I can't imagine he'd be with the squints or shopping with the women."

"No," Jack agreed with a chuckle. "He has about as much patience for squinty things as I do; so no, he's not with the squints. I don't think he's that much into shopping either and with that bum ankle, he decided to stay home. Personally, I think he just wants to milk all the pampering he can get from the good Dr. Soroyan."

"Ummm," Booth said, tapping his fingers against the table. "They seem to be getting very close, don't they?"

"That's what I hear," Jack answered, carefully observing the younger man.

"Do you know if he's serious?" Booth asked, wearing a slight frown.

"I don't know," Jack replied. "I'm not in the habit of inquiring into my officers' love lives."

"No, of course not," Booth replied. He was still wearing the frown, making Jack curious. Since Jack was not a man to keep his curiosity contained, he decided to ask.

"I thought you had a thing going with Dr. Brennan?" Jack inquired.

"I do," Booth answered immediately. "Bones and I are in a relationship – have been in one for months now. And it's going great. Why do you ask?"

"Because you sound like you have a problem with Mitchell and Dr. Soroyan being together. If you're not interested in her,"

"I'm not," Booth interrupted Jack, shaking his head. "I'm not interested in Camille. And I don't have a problem with her and Mitchell being an item."

"Are you sure?" Jack pressed. "Cause you sound awfully interested."

"I'm in love with Bones," Booth declared. "But Camille and I do have a history; we've known each other a lot of years. She's a very good friend and I just don't want to see her hurt is all."

"I see," Jack said. "Does Dr. Brennan know about this history?"

"Sure," Booth answered with a shrug. "I don't have secrets from Bones. She knows Camille and I dated a few years ago."

"And she's ok with it?" Jack asked, incredulous. "She doesn't have a problem with you working so closely with Dr. Soroyan?"

"No," Booth answered, firmly. "Why would she?"

"Well," Jack drawled, "It's been my experience that women do not generally like it when exes hang around. They tend to get testy when the men they love give too much attention to other women. They can even get jealous; you know, they can be weird like that," he finished with 'what can you do' gesture.

Booth grinned even as he shook his head, "Not Bones. She doesn't get jealous." When Jack looked at him like he'd grown another head, he continued, "No really, she doesn't. Jealousy is irrational and unreasonable and Bones is nothing if not rational and reasonable – always. She's too smart to be otherwise."

"Let me tell you something about smart women," Jack said in a conspiratorial tone. "I've known one of the smartest women in this or any other galaxy for more than a decade and have been in a romantic relationship with her for almost three years and I can assure you, they're as susceptible to jealousy as anyone else. In fact, whenever the situation involves the man they love and an ex, they stop thinking with their heads and start acting very . . . primal. Believe me, the highest IQ is no match for the green monster; all that rationality and reasonableness goes out the window the minute the green monster appears."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating," Booth argued but Jack shook his head.

"I am not," Jack assured Booth. "You should have seen some of the snits Carter's gotten into over the years."

"Snits," Booth repeated. "Somehow, I don't think Colonel Carter would appreciate you using that word to describe her behavior."

"Oh, I know she wouldn't," Jack confirmed with the grin of a man involved with a strong, capable woman, who very much enjoyed baiting said strong and capable woman. Booth recognized that grin straight off since it was one he often wore. "But as it is a completely accurate description, she can't object too strongly."

"I still say Bones is not one to . . ." Booth trailed off, as he remembered certain instances where Brennan had acted less than rational where he was concerned. "Actually, sir, you might be onto something. I've never seen Bones in a jealous mood but she can be very . . . possessive on occasion."

"See," Jack said with a 'there you go' gesture. "I tell you even the smartest woman has the jealous gene."

"Maybe," Booth said in a thoughtful tone. "I might have to investigate this."

"Be my guest," Jack invited. "Just don't go out of your way to make her jealous; that can back fire _big_ time."

"Yeah, it could," Booth agreed, grimacing at the thought of Brennan's reaction to such a stunt. "No, I won't do that. I'll just pay more attention to her reactions, that's all."

-------------------

"I don't know, Ange," Brennan said as she looked into the mirror. "Don't you think it's a bit . . .much?" She half turned to look at her back and added with a grimace, "Or maybe the problem is that there's not enough of it."

"No, sweetie," Angela shook her head. "It's just the right amount of fabric. You look great and Booth will love it!"

"I don't know," Brennan said again, shaking her head.

"Oh, Temperance," Vala gushed, as she walked out of the dressing room, "you have got to get that dress!!! You look gorgeous in it."

"Wouldn't the red one be better?" Brennan asked, referring to the one-shoulder gown she'd tried earlier on.

"No," Vala and Angela shook their heads at the same time. "That's a nice dress but this one," Angela said, motioning to the one Brennan was wearing, "this one is beautiful and you look amazing in it. That's the one you're getting."

"I have to agree with them," Sam said, speaking up for the first time. "The red dress is pretty but this one really is gorgeous. I say go for it."

"Janet?" Brennan asked, turning to the petite doctor who had finally joined them half way through their shopping spree. "What do you think?"

"I'm afraid I'm going have to agree with them, Dr. Brennan," Janet said.

"Please," Brennan said, raising a hand to stop the doctor, "call me Temperance."

"Ok," Janet agreed with a smile, "Temperance, they're right. You should get that one. I know I didn't see you in the red dress," SG4 had come back from off-world hot and she'd had to delay her departure in order to take care of them. Thank God for Asgard beaming technology or she wouldn't have made it for the shopping expedition at all. "But I can't imagine you looking any better in that one than you do in this one."

Brennan turned back to the mirror and studied her image some more. She had to agree that she did look good in it and Booth would probably love it – especially the back but . . . It was more revealing that she usually felt comfortable wearing.

"Bren," Angela said suddenly, stopping her train of thought, "stop thinking so much. You're buying it and that's that. Now, go change! Now, Janet, I think that dress is perfect for you."

"Yep," Vala agreed. "I think that color looks great on you and with your height, I think a floor length dress would be too much."

"Are you saying I'm short?" Janet asked with a slight frown. Vala looked at her and raised a brow.

"Well, if the short dress fits," Vala told her with a grin, while Angela and Brennan exchanged worried glances. "You know, it's not my fault you're short."

"Yes, just like it's not my fault," Janet said with a nod, still wearing the frown, "that you're old enough to be my great-grandmother."

The two women locked eyes and seemed to be having a staring contest before they broke down in giggles. "Ok, ok," Janet said, turning back to the mirror while Brennan and Angela just shook their heads; they had been worried there would be a fight and were glad the two other women had just been playing. "So, you think this dress looks ok?"

"Yes," Vala nodded. "It looks great. I don't think you need to look any further."

"Ok," Janet said, decisively. "I'll take it." She wasn't really fond of shopping and buying the second dress she tried on was good enough for her.

"So, who needs a dress still?" Janet asked, as she turned and walked back to the dressing room to change.

"Well, Sam got hers already," Vala replied. "Angela found one earlier on that I think is the best one for her,"

"Yes," Angela agreed. "I'm going back and getting it. Nothing else I've seen since seems right."

"Yup," Vala nodded and went on. "And I still haven't found anything I like yet. I mean, I've seen some pretty ones but nothing that looks like me, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Janet said, as she came out of the dressing room. "So, where are we off to now?"

"Off to find my dress!!" Vala said happily, crossing her arm through Janet's and leading the way to the cash register. "After you and Temperance buy your dresses. And Angela gets hers."

-------------------

A couple of hours later, Brennan and Sam walked into Borders, towards Booth and Jack. Brennan gripped Booth's shoulder in greeting and they exchanged a grin in lieu of a kiss; she still wasn't comfortable with public displays of affection.

"Hey, guys," Sam said, as she leaned in to kiss Jack hello even as he tilted his head upward. "How'd your day go?"

"Fine, good," Jack answered with a shrug, "How about yours? Didn't you find _any_thing you liked?" He asked as he noticed the lack of garment bags in the women's possession.

"Oh, no," Sam denied. "We found lots of things we liked and we bought them too. But Angela took the stuff for the party to her place; she said that she wants you guys to be surprised. And the rest we dropped off at the cars."

"Okay," Jack said. "So, will I like this dress?" he asked wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

"I think so," Sam told him with a provocative grin. She then turned to Booth and with an amused grin, said, "Angela thinks you will love Temperance's dress."

"I will?" Booth asked, looking up at Brennan with a mischievous grin of his own. "Is it short and skimpy? Cause those are my favorite dresses; you know like that one you wore that night that you . . ."

"Yes," Brennan said hastily, interrupting him. "I know which dress you mean. But no, it's not short. It's a floor length dress. All of them are."

"All of them?" Jack asked, with something close to a whine in his tone. "Carter, this is sounding more and more like a big ass production! I thought you said it was just going to be nice, small get together with family and close friends!"

"It is," Sam argued, after a brief grimace. "It'll just be us and a few close friends and family. It's just that the get together will be a bit more . . . formal, that's all."

"Formal?" Jack repeated. "How formal? Don't tell me I'll have to wear . . ."

"Yes," Sam said at the same time, "you'll need to wear your dress blues."

"Carter!!" Now there was a definite whine in his tone. "You know I hate wearing those!"

"I know, Jack, I know," Sam said, soothingly. "But you look so good in them."

As Brennan and Booth watched, Sam proceeded to flatter Jack into agreeing to wear his dress blues and to go to the party. It was an education for Brennan, who had only ever seen Angela do anything similar and who hadn't thought it could be done with a man like Jack. Seeing it now, made her wonder if she could do the same with Booth.

"Oh, Janet finally made it," Sam told Jack, a few moments later. "She said everyone in SG4 will be fine."

"That's good to hear," Jack nodded.

"Yes," Sam nodded. "She also told me that Jonas is back and is looking forward to joining us here."

"When is he coming over?" Jack wanted to know.

"Well, he wants to catalogue what he's brought back," Sam answered. "Janet says he's planning on coming over in a couple of days."

"Oh, goody," Jack said, sarcastically, "A house guest! Just what I wanted."

"Actually," Sam said, picking up Jack's coffee, "Angela offered to let him stay at her place. He shouldn't have any trouble getting along with Hodgins and Zack."

"Oh, I'm sure he won't," Jack agreed. "He's as much as a squint as those two."

"Yes, he is," Sam agreed with a grin. "Hey, you guys are ok here, right?" When both men nodded their assent, Sam said, "Good. Then you won't mind if Temperance and I go and browse for a little bit, would you?"

"Carter!" Jack argued. "You don't know how to browse through a book store for a little bit."

"Sure, I do," Sam insisted and with a grin, turned to Brennan. "You coming?"

"Sure," Brennan answered while Booth started to sputter a protest. "I'll be right back," she told him before leaning in to give him a quick kiss. She walked off after Sam before Booth recovered enough to keep protesting.

Forty minutes later, Jack looked at his watch and said, "I think we better go and look for them if we want to get out of here sometime today."

"Yes," Booth agreed as they stood up, "you're probably right."

A few minutes later, Jack turned into an isle further into the store and found his wife lost in a book she'd obviously picked up from one of the stacks around her.

"Samantha," he drawled. "I thought you were just going to 'browse for a little bit'" He said, using quote marks before crossing his arms and leaning on the book case next to her. "This does not look like browsing," he continued, waving around to indicate her reading the book. "It looks more like you losing yourself in these books."

"Jack," she said with a small smile. "Have I been gone long?"

"Oh, about forty minutes," he answered with a shrug. "Not that long - considering you're _you_ and this is a book store. Still, you might want to hurry if you want to go out to dinner."

"Yeah, ok," she said, shifting the books she was carrying and deciding to put one back and take the rest. "Let's go. Is Temperance done?"

"No," Jack shook his head. "Apparently, she's as bad as you," he commented distractedly as he shifted his head, trying to see what she was carrying. "Samantha," he said, slowly, "is that a romance book I see in between all those scientific journals?"

"I don't know what you mean," she answered as she shifted the books closer to her body. "Now, let's go. Didn't you say we're in a hurry?" She evaded his grasp and walked by him.

"Oh, come on, Carter," he called laughingly, as he turned to follow her out. "I _know_ you read romance books! Let me see what you have there!! You know, I'll get it sooner or later."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said, laughing, as she once again tried to evade his attempts to grab some of the books she was carrying. "So you say, but if I'm not mistaken, you've yet to find any of these romance books you say I own!" She was so busy teasing him that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and walked into a woman coming the other way. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying . . ." she started to apologize but trailed off when she realized just who it was she had walked into.

"Agent Johnson," Sam, the first one to recover, finally said.

"Colonel Carter," CIA Agent Kerry Johnson said with a nod in Sam's direction. "Jack," she gave another nod in Jack's direction. "I hear congratulations are in order."

"Yes, thank you," Sam said, shifting closer to Jack while he reached out to take some of the books she carried.

"Should I call you Colonel O'Neill now?" Johnson inquired.

"No," Sam answered. "Colonel Carter is fine."

Johnson nodded and turned to Jack, "I'm glad to see that even though you didn't follow my advice, you nevertheless found a way around those roadblocks."

"Yes, well," Jack answered. "Sometimes these things work themselves out." Sam looked from Jack to Johnson, at a loss as to what they were talking about.

"Well," Johnson said with another nod. "I'm glad it all worked out."

"Thank you," Jack said.

"Well," Johnson said again after a few moments of uncomfortable silence while the three of them shuffled their feet but didn't know what to say. "I better get going; I have to," she added, motioning to the rest of the store.

"Yes, us too," Jack agreed.

"It was great seeing you," Johnson said, sincerely. "I'm very happy you're doing so well," she told Jack before walking away, after a final nod.

"What did she mean by that?" Sam asked after Johnson left. "What advice did she give you?"

"Oh, it was nothing," Jack said, waving it off. "Now, come on. Let's go." He ushered her towards the cash registers as she kept asking about it.

--------------------

"Bones!" Booth called out, as he walked up to her. "Are you about ready?"

"Booth," Brennan said, looking up from the book she was paging through. "What are you doing here?"

"Bones," he said, slowly, "you've been here for over half an hour. I thought you were just going to be a little bit."

"I was," she argued. "I'm just . . ."

"You just got lost in the wonderful world of books, huh?" he asked.

"Well, yes," she answered with a sheepish smile. "I guess you'd like to leave now?"

"There's an idea," Booth said. "I mean we need to get going if we want to make it to dinner."

"Yes, ok," Brennan said, replacing the book she had been flipping through and picking up the ones she'd put aside. "Let's go."

"Here," Booth said, reaching over and taking the books from her. "Let me carry them."

"I can carry them myself, Booth," she protested.

"I know that, Bones," he told her, taking the books nonetheless. "But I like to do these kinds of things for you."

"Yes, I know," she said, sounding a bit put upon. "You like to play the gentleman."

"I do not play the gentleman," Booth disputed, immediately. "I like to think I am a gentleman."

"Yes, yes," she reassured him. "You are; that's not what I'm disputing. I'm disputing the need to be a gentleman in the first place."

"Oh, no," he groaned. "We're not going there again. Not today."

"What do you mean we're not going there?" she asked with a frown. "I thought we were leaving?"

"Oh, God, Bones," Booth laughed, "I swear," he said, shaking his head.

"What? Why are you laughing now?" she started to ask, exasperated, when she heard her name being called.

"Temperance?"

Brennan and Booth looked at each other before turning to look at the owner of the voice; a man they had not seen for over a year.

"Sully?" Brennan said, turning to look at the man who had chosen to sail away without her. The man whom she hadn't cared enough about to leave everything behind for.

"Temperance," Sully repeated, as he took a few steps closer to the couple. "Booth, how are you?"

"Sully," Booth returned the greeting with a small nod.

"We're fine," Brennan answered Sully's questions. "You?"

"I'm fine too, thanks," Sully replied.

"When did you get back?" Brennan wanted to know.

"A few weeks ago," was the surprising answer.

"How was your trip?" Booth asked when Brennan failed to say anything else. He knew Sully's answer had taken her by surprise.

"It was good," Sully answered, "very good."

"I'm glad," Booth said before an uncomfortable silence fell over them.

"Where you planning," Brennan finally asked, "on coming by and saying hi?" While she had no romantic interest in Sully, she did consider him a friend and the fact that he had been back for weeks without stopping by to say hi was somewhat upsetting.

"I thought about it," Sully said, as the smile left his face, "and have even been on the verge of going to see you a time or two."

"Why didn't you?" Brennan asked while Booth shifted closer to her. He knew how much abandonment of any kind, affected her.

"I didn't want to intrude," Sully shrugged.

"Intrude?" she repeated.

"It's been over a year, Tempe," Sully said simply. "You've gone on with your life and I have no wish to intrude on it," by the way he was speaking it was obvious he was referring to the relationship between Brennan and Booth.

"Sully," she said, after looking over at Booth. "We're friends; you wouldn't be intruding."

"No, you wouldn't," Booth repeated, agreeing. That agreement and Brennan's acceptance of it showed Sully just how much more of a unit they'd become in the year he'd been absent.

"Hey, Booth," Jack called out, as he and Sam walked up to them. "You guys ready to leave?"

"We're sorry," Sam said, noting the tense atmosphere between the couple and the third man. "We didn't mean to intrude. We'll wait for you by the registers." With that, she started to push Jack towards to the front.

"No," Sully said, holding his hand up to stop Jack and Sam from moving, "it's okay. I need to go anyway. It was great seeing you, Temperance," he told Brennan before turning to Booth, "you too, Booth."

"Sully," Booth nodded. "Maybe we could have dinner sometime."

"Yes," Brennan put it. "I'd love to hear about your trip."

"I'll call you guys," Sully said, with a final nod, before walking away.

"We're really sorry," Sam repeated. "We didn't mean . . ."

"No," Brennan interrupted her. "That's ok. Don't worry about it. Let's just go pay for these books and then go meet the others for dinner."

"Ok," Sam nodded and walked towards the registers with Jack.

"Bones," Booth said, as they started walking. "Are you ok?"

"Yes," she answered, after a few moments thoughts. "I am. Let's go have fun."


	5. Chapter 5

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!!!

**A/N:** I am sorry it has taken so long to get this chapter out. But I was very sick last week and had no energy to write at all. That's also why I didn't answer your lovely reviews as I usually do. I hope you still know how much they mean to me and how they encourage me to keep writing. But since it's been a while since I posted, this is an extra long chapter!! Yes, I know, they're all long but this is extra long - believe me. I know I promised you the party would start in this chapter but the preparations for it got away from me. It's still a fun, fluffy chapter; you should have fun reading it. And the party is all set to start and I have a pretty good idea where I'm going there, so hopefully that chapter will be out next weekend! Ok, thanks as always to puppet for all her help and to all of you who read this mamoth of a fic and who review! Now, go read, enjoy and review!!

**Chapter 5 **

"Come on, Bones," Booth said, as he followed Brennan around the lab, "you need to go. Now! If you're not on time, Angela's going to have both our heads!"

"In a minute, Booth," Brennan replied, off-handedly, as she studied the x-rays for the newest victim Booth had brought earlier that day. "I still have some time."

"No, you don't," Booth insisted. "According to Angela, you have to be at her place in," he looked down at his watch and said, "less than an hour or something horrible will happen."

"What?" she asked, looking up from the x-rays, with a confused frown. "What will happen?"

"I don't know," he answered with a shrug. "How the heck can I know what goes on in the mind of that woman? I just know that I don't want to find out; I just know that somehow, it'll all end up being my fault."

"You're being paranoid," she told him, going back to her study of the bones. "How can it be your fault if I'm the one that doesn't want to go?"

"Because," he said patiently, "I know you and I know how you get when you get a new case. Angela'll get on my case for letting you come in today and for not making you leave when you should have."

"_Letting_ me come in?" she asked, her right eyebrow shooting up. "_Making_ me leave? How did you two ever get the impression you _allowed_ me or _made_ me do anything?"

"Now, Bones," he started to say, placating, "I know I don't _make_ you do anything – I know I can't. But as your boyfriend, Angela might think I have some influence," he added, with his charm smile. "She's not totally wrong, either, is she?"

"Not totally wrong," she gave in with a half smile, "no."

"Good," he said, enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together. "Then, let's get out of here, shall we?" He asked, as he took the papers from her hand and started to hurry her out.

"No, Booth," she protested. "I still have a lot to do."

"You can do it tomorrow," he bargained with her. "Or better yet, Monday."

"But Booth," she complained, "I'm no where near close to finding out who he was! I need to run all sort of tests, since neither Zack nor Hodgins are here today."

"That's because they're home getting ready," Booth told her, as he continued to pull her away. "And that's where we need to be. Let's go!"

"You're the one that brought him, you know," she replied, glaring at him, as she picked up her purse.

"Yes, I know," Booth said, nodding. "It's all my fault for bringing you a body that was just discovered. See, I told you it was going to end up being my fault." With that, he walked her out of the lab and toward his SUV.

"How come you have to go get ready at Angela's, anyway?" Booth asked, a few minutes later, with something close to a pout. "Why can't we get ready and go to the party together?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "something to do with wanting to see the guys' faces when we're all done."

"What?" he asked, glancing at her before turning back to face the road. "Is she planning on putting you in a costume or something?"

"No, of course not," was the immediate answer, then she paused and re-considered it. "Although given the dress she made me buy and who knows how much make-up she'll make me wear, I don't even want to think about the results."

"You don't like the dress you bought?" he asked her, curiously.

"It's ok, I supposed," she answered, with another shrug.

"Just not what you'd have picked?" he asked, knowingly.

"No," she shook her head, "not what I'd have picked for myself."

"And yet," he couldn't resist pointing out, "you go on and on about _me_ telling you what to do?"

"That's not the same," Brennan argued, though she knew she was on shaky ground.

"Yeah, right," he snorted. "Anyway, I still don't see why we have to get ready separately."

"I already told you," she repeated, turning on her seat to see him better, "she says that she wants to see all of your faces when you see us for the first time."

"Well," he commented, "those must be some dresses."

"They are beautiful," she agreed. "I also think that, as much as she might want to see your reactions, she just wants to spend some more 'girl time'."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Booth nodded. "Angela is a real girly girl and loves to spend time doing girl things."

"Yeah," Brennan agreed, with a sigh. "I just know there's going to be a lot of screaming and exclaiming and . . . noise in general."

"You're not looking forward to an all girl's time getting ready, are you?" he asked, chuckling.

"Not exactly," she admitted. "But you know Angela; sometimes you just have to give in."

"Yes, I know Angela," he agreed, drolly. "Will everyone be there?" he asked, thinking of Jack and wondering if he was through something similar with Sam, "even Sam and Cam?" 

"Yes," she nodded. "Everyone will be there."

"I wouldn't have thought Colonel Carter would be one for this sort of thing," he commented. "Or that the general would like it too much."

"Probably not," she replied, with half a shrug. "But I'm sure that Vala talked her into it."

"Like Angela talked you into it?" he asked, with a grin, and she just scrunched her nose in response. "What about Cam? Will she be there too?"

"Yes," Brennan nodded, "she'll be there too."

"I'm surprised," Booth said, "that she agreed to go. What with Cam's busted ankle, I'd have thought she'd want to stay over at her place."

"What?" she asked, sitting up in alarm, " Cam broke her ankle? When did that happen?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. " Cam didn't break her ankle; Cam did."

"What?" she asked again, confused. "I thought you said she didn't break it."

"Yes, no," he shook his head, "_she_ didn't break it; Cam, as in Mitchell, broke _his_ ankle remember?"

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Yes that I knew."

"You know," he told her, "that can get confusing."

"Yes, it can," she said, as she shifted to sit up straight again. "That's why we decided that we should either call them by their full first name or their last name."

"That makes sense," he replied, as he stopped in front of the gates to Hodgins' place. After ringing the bell and being let in, he pulled up to the front door. "Well, here we are. I guess I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"Are you wearing a tux?" she asked, as she placed her hand on the door handle, just then realizing that while they'd talked about her dress, they hadn't talked about what he'd be wearing.

"No," he shook his head. "Since it's the general and colonel's wedding anniversary and most of the guests will be military personnel, I thought I'd wear my dress uniform. That way I don't have to deal with getting a tux."

"That's a good idea," Brennan agreed, with a small smile. She loved how he looked in his dress uniform. "And you have Parker's outfit ready?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Are you sure it's a good idea to bring him? It sounds like a grown ups party?"

"Angela and Vala both insist that you should bring him," she answered with a shrug. "Besides, he's already looking forward to it; you can't _not_ bring him now."

"Yes," he agreed. "Well, I'm on my way to pick him up now. He's been calling me and asking what time I'm getting there. So, you're right; I can't disappoint him now."

"No, you can't," she told him and leaned forward to kiss him good bye, "Ok, I'll see you later."

"Yep, later," he said, as she pulled back and turned to climb out of the car.

"Sweetie!" Angela cried out, when she opened the door to her best friend. "You're finally here!"

"Yes, I am," Brennan said, as Angela hugged her and pulled her inside. "I'm not late, am I?"

"No, not yet," Angela replied, shaking her head, before waving to Booth, as he pulled away. "I knew Booth would get you here on time."

"I don't what you said to him," Brennan commented, as Angela linked her arm through hers, "but he was paranoid about getting me here on time; said you'd find a way to make it his fault if I was late."

"Yes, well," Angela said, with a smirk, "you just have to know how to talk to them to get them to do what you want."

"And you're very good at that, aren't you?" Brennan asked, with a roll of her eyes.

"Well, yes, honey," Angela answered, with an even wider smirk, "now that you mentioned it. Well, girls," she announced, when she and Brennan walked into the living room, "look who's finally here."

"Hello," Brennan smiled at the room, as a chorus of 'hi's' and 'how are you?s' greeted her.

"Are we all here now?" Angela asked, looking around the room.

"We're just missing Cassie," Janet answered, as she leaned forward to pick up a canapé. "But she called a while ago from Jack's; she'll be here in a few minutes."

"Good," Angela said, as she perched on the arm of the couch, after picking up her wine glass. "And the hair-stylists and make-up artists should be here any minute too."

"Hair-stylists?" Brennan asked with a frown. "Make-up artists? Angela how many people do you have coming here? And why do we need them anyway? I thought we were getting ready by ourselves. I've been doing okay by myself for a lot of years now."

"I know, sweetie," Angela nodded, as she placed her wine glass on top of her knee. "But one of the advantages of being married to a multi-millionaire is that I can splurge and have some fun with my friends."

"I don't know if letting some one else play with my face and hair," Brennan said doubtfully, with a grimace, as she sat down next to Sam, "is my idea of having fun."

"Of course, it'll be fun," Vala cried out, as she took a sip of her wine, "it'll be loads and loads of fun! But I'm still not sure whether I want my hair up or down; though, I am sure I want my make-up to be dramatic."

"So, do I," Angela agreed. "But we can't forget that it's Sam's night. She has to look the most dramatic of all."

"Oh, no," Sam said, shaking her head and putting her hands up in the universal stop sign, "you leave me out of it. I just want something nice and subtle, nothing crazy for me."

"Or me," Brennan said, with a decisive nod. "Better yet, I'll just do my own make up and hair."

"No," Angela denied, empathically. "I am not having those people come here only to have you squirm out of using them." Just then the bell rang and she jumped up, "Hold on, I'll be right back," and with that she ran out.

"Doesn't she have a butler around this place?" Cam wondered aloud, from where she was sitting on a corner chair, sipping her wine.

"Yes, she does," Brennan answered with a shrug, "but she likes to run around herself."

"How come you're so quiet?" Sam asked, looking at Janet.

"Because," Janet answered with a shrug, "I'm a divorcee with a college age daughter. I don't think they can get too carried away."

"Look who I found," Angela said, as she walked back into the room, before that sentiment could be disputed. "I don't know her, but she says she belongs to you," she continued, with a grin.

"Hey, mom," Cassie said, with a smile, as Janet got up and met her halfway, for a hug and kiss.

"Cassie," Janet said, in greeting, "you're finally here."

"Yes, I am," Cassie grinned and turned towards the others, "Sam, Vala, how are you?"

"Hey, Cassie," Sam grinned back, while Vala said her own hello's.

"Cassie," Janet said, bringing her daughter's attention back to her, "you met Angela Montenegro-Hodgins." She motioned towards Angela, who grinned back at her.

"A pleasure, Cassie," Angela said, holding her hand out. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Thank you," Cassie said, shaking the offered hand. "This is an awesome place you have here," she added looking around.

"Thanks," Angela said, grinning.

"This is Dr. Camile Soroyan," Janet said, indicating Cam who shifted forward on her chair.

"Cassie, a pleasure," Cam said, with a nod.

"Dr. Soroyan," Cassie replied, with a nod of her own, "I have heard a lot about you; you're the doctor that has Mitchell going nuts."

"That'd be me," Cam agreed, with a small laugh. "And I'd love to hear what you've heard."

"No problem," Cassie said, with a wink. "We'll talk."

"And this," Janet continued, gesturing to Brennan, "is Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Oh, I love your books," Cassie said, enthusiastically, as she shook Brennan's hand.

"Thank you," Brennan accepted the compliment, with a nod.

"Is Andy Lassiter really based on your real life FBI partner?" she asked, leaning slightly forward.

"So he likes to think," Brennan said, noncommittally, and shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, don't listen to her," Angela said, waving aside the non-answer. "Of course Andy is based on Booth," she continued, hooking her arm through Cassie's. "Anyone that knows them, knows that."

"Is he as yummy in real life," Cassie asked, conspiratorially, "as he sounds in the books?"

"Oh, he's even yummier," Angela drawled.

"Really?" Cassie asked, grinning wider.

"Really," Angela nodded, eyes glinting. "But let's not gush too much; Bren can be quite jealous when provoked."

"Angela!" Brennan protested, while Cassie said with a fake pout,"Darn I should have known he was taken. Why are all the good ones always taken?"

"I don't know, honey," Angela answered, grinning. "But I know everyone woman in America feels the same way."

"Angela," Brennan said, interrupting the teasing, "shouldn't you go and get that?" she asked, as the door bell ran again.

"Oh, that'll be the hair-stylists and make-up artists," Angela answered, off-handily. "James will get it; but let's start walking upstairs."

"Cassie," Vala asked, as she joined Cassie and Angela by the door, "where's your dress?"

"Oh, the butler, James," Cassie answered, looking at Angela for confirmation on the name and Angela nodded, "James took it up when I arrived."

"What color is it?" Vala asked, as they walked out. "I bet it's beautiful."

"Yes, it is," they could hear Cassie answer, "and it's sage . . ."

"I guess we'd better follow them up, huh?" Sam said, standing up.

"Yes," Brennan said, sighing. "I don't think there's a way out of this."

"No," Sam agreed. "Like we said the other day, sometimes it's just best to go along with them. You know, like a force of nature, there's just no stopping them."

"I know, I know," Brennan agreed, with a nod. "Well, shall we?" she asked, motioning the others forward. With a grin, they all walked out and followed the laughs up the stairs.

Two hours later, James knocked on the suite where all the women were getting ready.

"Mrs. Hodgins," he said, when Angela said to come in, "The guests have started arriving and Mr. Hodgins and the gentlemen are waiting for you in the foyer."

"Thank you, James," Angela said, with a nod. "We'll be down in a minute." When he closed the door behind him, Angela turned to look at the women before her, rubbed her hands together and said, "Okay, ladies. Are we ready?"

"Angela," Brennan said, with a grimace, "can't we just all go downstairs together? Why do we have to put on this show?"

"Sweetie," Angela said, with what Brennan thought was an almost maniacal grin, "of course we have to put on the show. I mean, how many times are we going to have another opportunity like this? Probably never! So, yes, we're doing this." With that, she turned to other women and ignored Brennan's sputtered protests. "You know the order, right? Janet, you're coming down first, yes?"

"Yes," Janet sighed, "I'll go down when you call me." She wasn't any crazier about the whole production than Brennan was but she knew it was useless to argue; she'd just rather get it over with as soon as possible.

"Good," Angela said. "Okay, pay attention now."

When she walked out, Brennan and Sam looked at each other and Sam said, "like a force of nature, you just have to go along with them." Brennan nodded and they both turned to look at Vala, who was gossiping with Cassie and Cam.

"Whoa, baby," Hodgins said, when he saw Angela coming down the stairs. "You look great!! Absolutely stunning!"

"Thank you, Hodgie," Mrs. Angela Montenegro-Hodgins said, with a grin and a wink. She was wearing a gorgeous, strapless floral, black and white chiffonflowing gown with an artfully ruche bodice and a waist-sculpting adjustable tie. Her hair was loose and wavy around her shoulders, with a bejeweled comb holding one side up. Her make-up was tastefully dramatic, with black mascara and eyeliner, bringing out her eyes and contrasting with the white of her gown.

She had on a black pearl necklace and bracelet; and was wearing black strappy dress sandals with a round open toe, a wrapped vamp crossed in a herringbone pattern at the instep and looped through dual side quarter straps with low heels, so as not to tower too much over her husband. "You look very handsome yourself," she told him, as she stepped off the last step and leaned forward to kiss him.

"You do look beautiful, Angela," Booth told her and when she turned to say thanks, she heard a small voice pipe up, "Yes, Ange, you look very pretty."

"Why thank you, Parker," Angela said, as she hunched down to hug the young Booth. "You look super handsome too, bud."

"Thank you," the almost seven year old told her, with a grin identical to his father's. "As good as my daddy?" he asked, with a child's guileless candor.

"Now, well," Angela grinned, raising up, "your dad does look pretty good in his dress uniform." She admitted giving Booth the once over. "But I think you're the handsomest guy in this room," she told him, tousling his blond curls.

"Thank you!" he said, with an even wider grin.

"You're welcome," she said with a smile, stepping to the side of the staircase after nodding greetings to the other men. "Janet, come on down," she called up the stairs, as if she was a game show host, which made Hodgins smile and Booth roll his eyes.

Dr. Janet Frazier came down a few seconds later, wearing a royal blue, chiffon, strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, shirred overlay across the bodice, which was accented with silver embroidery, and beadwork at the right side, and an asymmetrical layer, flowing slightly past the knee length skirt.

Her hair was up in a French twist and she was wearing dress slip on pumps with rounded open toe, matching front knotted bow embellishment and very low cut arches in silver, matching the color of the dress' embroidery. Her eye shadow was a mixture of blue and silver that matched her sapphire and silver necklace.

"Dr. Frazier," Jonas Quinn said, as she descended the stairs, "you're looking very nice."

"Yes, Janet," Daniel agreed, with a small smile, as Mitchell whistled, "you look beautiful."

"Thank you guys," she accepted the compliments with a grin.

"Yeah, doc," Jack said with a grin, "you don't look like your usual Napoleonic-self."

"Thank you, general," Janet said, with a smirk. "That's so good of you to say."

"Not a problem, doc," Jack replied, with a chuckle.

With half a laugh, Janet shook her head and moved to one side while Angela called Cassie down.

Cassandra Frazier was wearing a pleated charmuese gown in sage with spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline, which was deeper than her mom's. It featured a twisted front, laced up back and a floor length skirt.

Her hair was down and straight, parted on the side and framing her face; her make-up was light but brought out her eyes. She wore light green strappy evening slide sandals, medium heels with a round open toe, dual delicate straps joined to a single matching instep strap with an elaborate faux gem embellishment. A chunky crystal necklace that echoed the crystals sewn throughout the bodice and in her shoes completed the ensemble.

"You're looking good, Cassie!" Mitchell said, and Daniel slapped him on the back of his head.

"When did she grow up?" Daniel asked, turning to Jack with a frown.

"I don't know," Jack answered, with an even darker frown than Daniel, which he turned on Mitchell and had the colonel swallowing hard and wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. "But I don't like it; I wished she'd stopped a few years back," he added, when Cassie took the last step down.

"Hey, Jack," Cassie said, taking a step forward and kissing Jack and Daniel hello. "You like my dress?" she asked with a grin and twirled around to show off the dress, which made the skirt flutter out.

"I think you're missing a back," Jack said, still frowning, "that's what I think. Don't you want to go back and put on a sweater or something?"

"No, I don't," Cassie said laughing. "The dress is perfect as is, right mom?" she asked, turning to look at Janet.

"You do look beautiful, Cassie," Janet answered, with a sigh, privately thinking that Jack was right and that Cassie should have stopped growing years ago – especially, since because of Ba'al, Janet had missed more than two years of her daughter's life.

"Yes, you do, Cassandra," Jack agreed. "But I still think you should go back and get something to cover yourself up."

"Oh, Jack," Cassie said, with another laugh, as she leaned in to give him another kiss. "What are you going to do when you have kids of your own, huh?"

"I'm having only boys," Jack declared, seriously.

"I don't think you can make _that_ an order," Cassie told him, with a grin. "You have a fifty/fifty chance of having a girl. Just imagine it, a little girl with Sam's hair and your eyes, her brains and your humor."

"A miniature Carter?" he asked his eyes wide in terror. "She'd have our house re-wired by the time she's five and would rule the world by the time she's seven."

"She'd certainly rule your world by the time she's seven," Daniel agreed, with a wide grin.

"I'll have a talk with Carter," Jack said decisively, with a nod. "She's a good soldier; she'll understand we can only have boys."

"I don't think that's the way it works, General," Mitchell said, with a smirk. "Regardless of how good a soldier Colonel Carter is." Jack turned and frowned at Mitchell, who once again wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

"He's right, Jack," Daniel added in his two cents, "I don't think this is one area where you'll be able to get your way."

"Besides," Jonas said, with a small smile, "I think your daughter and Sam's would be beautiful."

"She'd be that," Jack agreed, with a small smile, before shaking his head, "Can we change the subject, please?"

"Sure," Angela answered, smiling. As much as she was enjoying the interaction, they needed to keep moving. "Camille, come down." At the mention of the pathologist, Mitchell straightened and looked up the stairs.

Dr. Camille Soroyan wore a strapless long, flowing gown in oak. The strapless bodice had meticulous ruching and draped front details with a delicately beaded Empire waist. Her short hair was worn in soft curls and her make-up subtly enhanced her beauty; she wore a brown choker and pearl earrings. Her shoes were a two piece dress pump in dark brown, with a round peep toe, wrap over look pleated satin fabric detail with rhinestone accented D ring embellishment, full heel cup and petite stitching details.

"Well, Camille," Mitchell said, whistling and hopping closer to the stairs. "You look amazing!"

"Thank you," Camille said, with a soft smile, stopping very close to the Air Force Colonel. Mitchell wrapped his arm around her waist and they stepped to the side as Angela called Vala down.

Vala MalDoran strutted down the staircase as if she were walking down the runway. She had on an orchid beaded stretch mesh and charmeuse a-line gown with a beaded halter neckline that wrapped to the back bodice, a deep V-neck, a knotted front at the waist and an asymmetrical hemline. She was wearing sparkling, dress slide, high heeled sandals with a rounded open toe and curving front bands with faceted rhinestone embellishment in the same orchid color as her dress.

Her hair was in a loose chignon that was held up by two crystal tipped hair sticks with a few long curls escaping and floating down around her neck. She was wearing light lilac eye shadow, black mascara and coral lipstick. Her earrings were long, chunky crystals; she wasn't wearing a necklace since the halter was heavily beaded.

"Hello guys," she called out, waving at the men assembled at the foot of the staircase. "How'd you like my dress?" she asked, as she stepped away from the staircase and pirouetted for them.

"It's beautiful," Jack answered with a grin.

"_You_ look beautiful," Daniel said, as he stepped forward and kissed her, "as always."

"Thank you, darling," Vala replied, smoothing her hand down his lapel. "You look pretty snappy too." Daniel grinned and shook his head, as they took a step to the side while Angela called Brennan down.

Dr. Temperance Brennan wore a chocolate, beaded charmeuse, a-line, floor length gown. It featured a beaded strap, a one shoulder charmeuse strap, a very low back and streamer on the side, held by a beaded snap. The reddish tones of the dress brought out the red highlights of her hair, made her skin glow and her eyes look even bluer. The effect was compounded by the deep rose eye shadow and prune shade lipstick.

Her hair was up in half a pony tail with the loose waves cascading down her back and held up with brown crystals hair pins. Her slingback sandals with a round open toe, side cutouts and offset knotted bow were a chocolate shade darker than the dress and the same shade as her bracelet. The beaded strap and asymmetrical neckline eliminated the need for a necklace.

"Darn, Bones," Booth said, as he stepped forward, with a low whistle. "You look incredible."

"Yes, Dr. Bones," Parker agreed, nodding his head earnestly. "You look as pretty as a princess."

"Thank you, Parker," Brennan accepted the compliment. "You and your dad look very dapper too."

"Dapper?" Parker asked with a frown, looking up at his dad.

"Elegant," Brennan elaborated. "You and your dad look very handsome and elegant."

"Thank you, Dr. Bones," Parker said, grinning while Angela called from the side, "turn around, Bren. Let them see the best part of the dress."

"Angela!" Brennan reprimanded.

"Come on, Bones," Booth said with a smirk. "Turn around; let's see the best part."

With a roll of her eyes, Brennan gave in and turned around. When Booth finally got a look at Brennan's back, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Wow," he breathed. "That is some back, Bones. What little there is of it," he said, shaking his head.

"I told you, you'd like it," Angela said with a grin. "Now, step aside so that Sam can come down."

Booth placed his arm around Brennan's waist and they took a few steps away from the stairs as Angela called out, "And now, last but not least, one half of whom this evening is in honor of." With that presentation, Sam came down the steps.

Colonel Samantha Carter-O'Neill wore a yellow stretch satin halter gown, fitted and fluid, with a deep V-neckline, low back, shirred bodice, front center slit and long ruffled drape cascading from the attached rhinestone brooch. She was also wearing silver dress pumps with a rounded open toe, tonal stitching accents; the modified heel sling strap laces through a heel panel.

Small crystals were scattered throughout her hair, and she was wearing diamond earrings and necklace. Her make-up was subtle, despite Angela and Vala's attempt, and perfectly complemented her features.

"Samantha," Jack said slowly, as she stopped in front of him. "You look breathtaking."

"And you," she said, with a slow grin, "look very . . . powerful."

They grinned at each other before Jack leaned in to kiss her. Before they could get lost in each other, however, Angela once again intervened.

"So, now that we're all here," she said with a wide grin, "we can go in and party!! Everyone's already waiting in the ballroom.

Jack and Sam reluctantly pulled apart and turned to look at their hostess. "Sure," Jack said with a nod. "Lead the way."

**A/N2: **Oh, I was forgetting one of the most important parts of this chapter! The dresses! I'm a girly girl who loves gowns and who loves browsing for them. So, whenever I write a party scene I spend hours going through different dresses and shoes until I find the right ones for the characters. Since there were 7 ladies to dress in this chapter, I spent hours and hours looking for the right dresses. And I had a blast! But I have to thank Sany and Space for putting up with all my questions and for all their advice. And Space even made up a banner of all of the dresses! http:// farm3 dot static dot flickr dot com /2222/2260037520a3e0b829edo dot jpg. That's the address; I hope it works. It usually doesn't but if you can't ask me in the review and I'll sent it to you. Cassie's dress is not in there cause I chose it afterwards. I also have the original web addresses, if you want to see the back of the dresses. Just let me know!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!

**A/N:** Well, here's the next chapter - the long awaited party chapter; the first part anyway, the next part is almost done so it shouldn't be too long in coming. I'm sorrythis parttook so long but the jealousy scene some of you asked for gave me a lot of problems. I finally worked it out, I think. Let me know what you think. Again, thanks to pup for all her help and for all your lovely reviews. I hope you like it. 

**Chapter 6**

"Teal'c!" Sam called out, when they turned towards the ballroom, and she saw her friend standing to the side. "You're here!" She dropped Jack's hand, and hurried forward, to hug and kiss Teal'c. 

Jack grinned, as his wife threw her arms around the normally somber Jaffa and he bent enough to return the embrace and allowed the kiss. Jack stood to the side while Sam turned to Ishta; he had already greeted the couple when they'd beamed to his apartment earlier on, with most of the personnel from the mountain. 

"Ishta," Sam was saying. "I'm so glad you could come."

"We would not miss being with you and O'Neill on this important occasion," Teal'c said gravely, while Ishta smiled her agreement. 

"I'm glad," Sam reiterated. "It wouldn't be the same without you." She smiled and told Ishta, "That's a great dress. Did you have help picking it out?"

Ishta, who was wearing a black silk chiffon gown, with iridescent beads and sequins at the waist and hem and a detailed twisted knot at the center front, turned with a grin to Cassie and answered, "Yes, I did. Cassie was kind enough to take me and Kar'yn shopping."

"Rya'c and Kar'yn are here too?" Sam asked, looking around at Jack. "I didn't think they were going to be able to make it."

"Yes," Jack answered, with a smile, as he moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. "They're both in the ball room – along with the rest of the guests, waiting for us."

"Well, then," Sam said, with a blinding smile. "Let's go meet them." With her husband by her side, and her friends behind her, Sam walked towards the ball room, eager to see who had come to the party. Vala and Angela had kept her in the dark about a lot of the plans for it, telling her not to worry about it, that there was no reason for her to be involved in it, when they knew she didn't like it, and would much rather work. Since they were right, she left them to it and was now anxious to see what they did. 

When they entered the ball room, Sam's father, Jacob, was the first to approach them. 

"Sammy," he said, as they hugged. "You look beautiful," he told her, as he stepped back and looked her up and down. 

"Thanks, dad," she said, with a misty smile, as she pulled him into another hug. "I am so glad you're here," she whispered into his neck. 

"So am I, Sammy," Jacob said, patting her back. "So am I." Though it had been over a year since Sam found out that Jacob was still alive and he had been able to give her away at her wedding, it was at moments like this when the memory of thinking him lost came back. 

"Hey, it's my anniversary too, you know," Jack whined, trying to lighten the mood. 

"I know, Jack," Jacob said, with a frown, as he turned to look at his son-in-law. "And the only thing I can say is that you're lucky you're keeping her happy. I wouldn't want to have to kill you."

"Ah, Dad," Jack said, grinning, but sounding serious, "you know making her happy is my mission in life."

"Yes," Jacob said, nodding. "That's the only reason you're still alive and kicking." After holding Jack's eyes, with a serious look on his own face for a few moments, Jacob gave in and smiled. "Congratulations, Jack," he said, as he stepped forward and hugged Jack. "I'm very happy for you."

"Thank you, Jacob," Jack said, sincerely, as Jacob nodded and stepped aside for the next guest.

Generals Hammond and Landry stepped up and offered their congratulations before Bra'tac and party approached with theirs.

"O'Neill," Bra'tac said, as they exchanged the traditional warrior greeting of clasping each other's forearms. "Allow me to give you my felicitations and wishes that this joy and happiness be with you always."

"Thank you, Bra'tac," Jack said, with a nod. "I'm glad you're here."

"I would not have missed it," Bra'tac told him. "We had waited a long time for this union; how can we not be here to celebrate it?" With a gleam in his eyes and a barely there smile, he turned to Sam. "Colonel," he began, as he shook her hand and allowed her to embrace him. "I am happy, but not surprised, to see that you've managed to make O'Neill behave."

While Jack frowned, Sam laughed and said, "Thank you, Bra'tac. It was a hard job, but someone had to do it." 

"Oh, go on, you old coot," Jack said, shooing Bra'tac away. Sam laughed at the interaction, knowing that despite the digs, the respect was deep and mutual. The fact that Bra'tac greeted Jack in the old age Jaffa warrior tradition showed how much the Jaffa master respected Jack as a warrior. Not many people outside of the Jaffa, not even Sam, merited that much respect from the Jaffa leader. 

With a slightly bigger smile than before, Bra'tac took a step to the side and let Rya'c and Kar'yn to move closer. 

"General O'Neill," Rya'c began, holding out his hand, in the Tauri greeting tradition. "We're very happy to be here to help you celebrate this important occasion."

"Thank you, Rya'c," Jack nodded. "We're glad to have you here."

"Yes," Sam said, as Kar'yn went to congratulate Jack, and Rya'c greeted Sam, "we didn't think you'd think it a good idea to come right now."

"We couldn't have missed it," Ray'c replied. "You and General O'Neill have done much for the Jaffa people, for my father and for us. We wouldn't miss the opportunity to come and give you our best wishes."

"Yes," Kar'yn agreed, with a small nod. "We wish that your union be as joyful, loving and fruitful as ours is," she added, laying her hand on her swollen stomach. The reason Sam and Jack had doubted the couple would come to the party was that Kar'yn was in the last weeks of her first pregnancy. 

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked, smiling, with her hand hovering over the other woman's stomach until Kar'yn nodded her approval of Sam touching it. "I hope you didn't put yourself in danger by coming tonight."

"I am feeling very good," Kar'yn answered, with a smile. "And don't worry," she added, "there was no danger in my coming here. Gate travel and beaming technology presents no danger to the pregnancy. Dr. Frasier assured us of that before we decided to come."

"I'm glad," Sam said, and Jack nodded. A few moments later, with promises they would talk later, Rya'c and Kar'yn walked further into the ballroom to mingle. 

When Reynolds, Ferreti, Walter, Siler and what seemed like most of the SGC had given them their best wishes, and gone back to the party, Sam leaned into Jack and asked, "how is it that the everyone's here? Who's guarding the mountain?"

"Landry gave the night off to most," Jack said, with a shrug. "There's a skeleton crew taking care of things back in the SGC."

"But how did they all get here?" Sam wanted to know. "They couldn't all have taken a plane."

"No," Jack shook his head. "Some were beamed to our place and some went to Dad's," since Jacob was the Tok'ra ambassador to Earth, he had a place in DC and permanent quarters in the mountain. Sam had asked why he didn't get an apartment in Colorado Springs too, but he had said that one was enough, and why would he want to have one, when he'd rarely be there, staying at the SGC meant less cleaning and less grocery shopping. "From there, we had some cars bring us all here."

"I see," Sam said, as a tall, broad shouldered, very handsome, blond man approached them. "Thor!" Sam said, after a few seconds of thinking about who the stranger was. 

"Thor buddy," Jack cried out, as he slapped the man's shoulder, and shook his hand. "How are you?"

"I am well, O'Neill," Thor answered, in his normal voice. It was a little disconcerting to hear the voice that usually came from a little grey man coming from such a human-looking person. "I wanted to come today and add my good wishes on your anniversary."

"Thank you, buddy," Jack said, while Sam nodded her agreement. "It means a lot to us to have you here."

"You're welcome," Thor said, sincerelywith a slight incline of his head. "I also wanted to bring you a gift, as I hear that is the custom in these situations."

"That's not necessary, Thor," Sam protested, as Jack thought of the last gift the Asgard Supreme Commander had given them. 

"Since I already gave you the transportation stones for you engagement," Thor told them, "I thought maybe you would like to go up to my ship and let me give you a medical exam."

"Why?" Sam asked, curious and Jack frowned, having a feeling he wasn't going to like where this was going. 

"Since Colonel Carter had not yet conceived," Thor started to explain, as Sam's eyes grew wide and Jack's frown deepened, "I thought we should make sure there was nothing . . ."

"Whoa, Thor," Jack finally found his voice to say, holding his hand up, "hold your horses. There will be no medical exams and no talk about conceiving. That's private, between Sam and me and . . ."

"What Jack means, Thor," Sam intervened, putting her hand on Jack's arm and quieting him with a slight squeeze, "is that although we appreciate your . . . generous offer, we're going to have to decline. Our lives are too complicated, at the moment, to even think about kids. And when we do, we prefer to give nature a chance first. But if we ever have the need," as Jack tensed, and opened his mouth to comment, Sam squeezed his arm harder to keep him quiet. "If we find that nature needs a little help, you'll be first one we call."

"As you wish," Thor said, with a small nod. A few minutes later, he went off to mingle with the rest of the guests, to continue his study of human nature. Jack and Sam looked at each other before grinning and shaking their heads, and went to mingle themselves. 

-----------------

"Booth," Brennan called. "Booth! You're not listening to me!" she complained, when he turned to look at her with an absent expression.

"Yes, I am," he immediately denied. 

"You are?" She asked. "Okay, tell me what I've been saying for the last five minutes," she demanded, folding her arms across her chest and all but tapping her foot on the floor.

"Hmm, let's see," Booth said, frowning in thought. "You've been giving me a lecture about the anthropological significance of this type of party?"

"That's a lucky guess," she argued, grumbling under her breath and thinking she might be a bit predictable if he was able to get it right on the first guess. "And it doesn't change the fact that you've been ignoring me all this time," she told him, getting back to her original point. "I might not be as good at social interaction as you are, but even I know that you don't ignore your current girlfriend, so that you can stare at your last girlfriend. Those are grounds for a fight, I believe."

"But I'm not," he started to protest, but she raised her hand, and stopped him before he finished speaking. 

"Don't," she said, firmly, "tell me that you weren't staring at Cam. I am neither blind nor stupid. You've been staring at her practically since the moment we came in."

They were standing by one of the ball room's French doors, off towards the side. They had moved there almost as soon as they'd entered the room, behind Jack and Sam, in an effort, on Brennan's part, to stay away from the majority of the party attendees. 

"Bones," Booth started to protest that wasn't true, but one look into her eyes, changed his mind. "I'm just worried about her," he finally said, shrugging. 

"Why?" She asked, frowning, as she looked towards where Camille was perched on the arm of the sofa Mitchell was sitting on. "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing is wrong with her," Booth replied. "Not really; I'm just worried about how serious she's gotten about this thing with Mitchell and I don't know if he's as serious. I wouldn't want to see her get hurt, it's all."

"Camille's a grown woman, Booth," Brennan pointed out. "She knows what she's doing and I doubt she'll appreciate you interfering in her personal life."

"I'm not going to interfere," he protested, again, rolling his eyes. "Gees, Bones, what do you take me for? I'm just saying I'm worried, that's all."

"No, Booth," she argued. "That's not all you're doing. You're also obsessing and you've been doing that for a while now."

"I am not obsessing," he insisted.

"Yes, you are," she disagreed, confidently. "I know you, Booth. I know when you start obsessing about something and you have definitely been obsessing about her. Not only have you been staring at her for most of the night," Booth thought about pointing out that the night was barely forty minutes old, but she didn't give him the chance. 

"But you've also been preoccupied with her and her whereabouts lately. I'm not the only that's noticed and if you don't stop pretty soon, you're really going to get on her nerves and she's going to call you on it." She paused a moment, and then added, through pinched lips, "not to mention the fact, that you're going to get on _my_ nerves and _I'm_ going to have to call you on it. And you don't want that, believe me." 

"Bones," Booth replied, with a slow grin spreading across his face. "You're jealous."

"I am not," she denied, resolutely.

"Yes, you are," he argued, still grinning. "But you have nothing to worry about. You know you're the one I love. Cam is just a friend, that's all."

"I know that, Booth," she told him, as her arms tightened across her chest. "If I didn't know that, we wouldn't be together. And I am _not_ jealous; I'm just telling you about something you're doing that's annoying me."

"You're annoyed because I'm not paying you as much attention as you'd like and instead I'm thinking and worrying about someone else," he said, nodding. "You know, Bones that sounds a lot like jealousy to me."

"No, it's not," Brennan insisted. "Jealousy is the resentment against a rival or a person that's enjoying success or advantage," she explained, sounding like she'd swallowed an encyclopedia, "or against another's success or a mental uneasiness from suspicion or fear of rivalry, unfaithfulness or the vigilance in maintaining or guarding something."

"Hmm," Booth said, with a small grin. "And you telling me that you're annoyed that I'm paying Camille so much attention is not maintaining or guarding something – namely me? And there's not one little bit of uneasiness because of a rivalry in that feeling of annoyance?" He asked her, raising his brows. 

"I . . ." Brennan started to answer, but closed her mouth, when she saw the gleam in his eyes. There wasn't much she could say to deny the charge; she was jealous of how much attention he'd been paying to Camille – not that she'd ever admit it out loud. So, instead, she attacked, "You can be very insufferable, you know that?" 

Booth laughed and asked, "How come I'm always insufferable whenever I'm right?"

"I don't know," she answered, too sweetly, "since you're rarely right, it's not something that has come up a lot."

Booth laughed again and shook his head. "Ah, Bones," he said, putting a hand over his chest, "you wound me." A few moments later, he calmed down and said, "Seriously, though, I'm sorry that I have been ignoring you. You're right; Camille is a grown woman and wouldn't appreciate my involving myself in her private life. I can't help worry about her, as a friend, but I don't have to be obsessed about it either. Especially not, when that means I'm ignoring you. I didn't mean to, Bones. Forgive me, please?" he asked her, giving her the same puppy dog eyes Parker gave them when he wanted something.

"Just don't do it again," she finally said, giving in. 

"I won't," he promised, moving closer to her and wrapping his arms around her, even though she still had her arms crossed. "And don't worry, Bones, being jealous is a completely normal reaction. I know all about it."

Brennan, who had opened her mouth to argue again that she was not jealous, changed her mind and instead asked, "You do?"

"Of course," he answered with a shrug. "I have an incredibly beautiful, intelligent, sexy girlfriend who turns heads wherever she goes. I'm not exactly thrilled about some of those looks, but what can you do?"

"I do not turn heads," she protested, because she was honestly oblivious to the impact she had on the male population. 

"Yes, you do," he disagreed. "Didn't you notice all the male heads turning to follow you when you walked in wearing that backless dress?" She shook her head no and he had to smile at her complete lack of awareness of her appeal. "Well, I can assure you that every male in this room craned their necks to admire your back for as long as they could. Now, I didn't particularly appreciate every one salivating over my woman's bare back, but again, what can you do?"

"They were not 'salivating'," she argued. "And I am not _your_ woman." 

"Yes, you are," Booth replied, firmly. 

"No, I am not," Brennan told him, eyes flashing. "I am not a possession."

"Of course you're not," he agreed, simply, and easily. He had been thinking about this issue for a while and had been marshalling his arguments for it. "But you're still my woman just like I'm your man. It's not a matter of owning each other, Bones," he explained, before she could keep arguing. 

"It's a matter of belonging to each other; of both of us deciding that we're in a committed relationship with each other and what rights and privileges that commitment gives us. It doesn't mean I'm going to tell you what to do, what to wear, what to think or what to say. It just means that we're each other's priorities; that we think of the other and of what our needs and wants are, when making a decision that affects both of us. We still have independent lives and we still have friends we go out and spend time with, but we let each other know before we do that and we check if we have plans. It just means that we've decided to share our lives, Bones, and by so deciding, we've given ourselves to the other – we belong to each other because we both choose to, we don't own each other because one of us decrees it."

"That," Brennan said, after a few moments of silence, and with a somewhat awed face, "that doesn't sound too bad."

"It's not," he nodded. "Of course, it also means that I have the right to scare off any man that tries to get too close to you. Just," he added, holding his finger up to silence her automatic argument that she could defend herself, "like you have the right to intimidate any woman that you think it's coming on to me – like you did last week at the diner, remember?"

"I did not," she started to protest, but ended up shrugging under his knowing gaze. "She knew we were together and yet she was blatantly flirting with you – in front of me!"

"Yes, she was," he agreed. "And I could have taken care of it, but I knew you'd want to do it yourself."

"So," she asked, with a glimmer in her eyes he didn't quite trust, "does this mean that I can rip your testicles off and serve them to you for dinner if you touch another woman?"

He flinched at the image, but nodded and added, "Just like I can do the same if you even think of touching another man."

"I don't have testicles, Booth," she pointed out, with a grin, finally uncrossing her arms and putting them around his waist.

"That's right; you don't," he answered. "No problem, I'll rip off his testicles and you, I'll just kill. Fair?"

"I guess it is," she said, with a chuckle. "It's nice to know what to expect and that we're both on the same page about it."

"Yes, it is," he nodded, and leaned in for a kiss. 

"Hmmm," she said, when they pulled apart, a few moments later. "As nice as this is, don't you think we should go check on Parker? He's been by the desserts table all this time," she added, indicating where Parker was by nodding her head.

"Shit!" Booth said, as he realized his son had been stuffing himself full of sugar for the last twenty minutes. "He's going to be on a sugar high all night," with that, he took off towards his off-spring, with a chuckling Brennan following close behind. 

-------------

"Crisis averted," Mitchell murmured, as he saw Booth and Brennan remove Parker from the sweets table.

"What did you say?" Camille, who was perched on the arm of his sofa asked, looking down. 

"Oh, nothing," Mitchell answered, gesturing towards Booth and Brennan with his beer. "It just seemed for a while there that Booth and his good doctor were getting into a fight but I guess they solved it – whatever it was."

"I'm sure they did," Camille agreed, looking at the partners talking to Parker. "Don't worry about them fighting," she advised a few moments later. "Those two are always either on the verge of a huge fight or in the middle of a bickering session. I don't think they can be happy if they're not arguing. It's gotten to the point that if they don't have at least three fights a week, we worry."

Mitchell laughed and shook his head. After taking a sip of his beer, he commented, "they have a weird relationship."

"Maybe," Camille conceded, "but it works for them."

"I guess," he shrugged. "Is it me or has Booth been paying a lot of attention to us?" he asked, a few moments later.

"It's not you," she answered, with a grimace. "Booth has a savior complex; he thinks it's his job to protect everyone and right now he's worried about me."

"About you?" he asked, frowning in confusion. "Why would he be worry about you?"

"He doesn't want you to hurt me," she replied, with a shrug. "Don't worry about it," she added, when she saw his frown deepen, "if Dr. Brennan doesn't set him straight soon, I will." Before Mitchell could respond, Janet arrived with the two drinks she'd gone off to acquire and, handing one to Camille, the two doctors resumed their conversation about some of the latest studies they both found fascinating. 

Most of what they said went right over Mitchell's head, but he was content to just sit there, observe the party, and listen to his girlfriend talk science. As he raised his beer bottle for another sip, he hoped that Brennan would set Booth straight and that the Major wouldn't think it necessary to talk to Mitchell about his concerns. Booth was on the verge of becoming a close friend of his and Mitchell would be loath to see such a promising friendship be marred by the other man's unreasonable concerns. 

----------------------

"Parker, buddy," Booth was asking his son, after he and Brennan drew him away from the desserts table. "How many little éclairs and cakes have you had?"

"I dunno, daddy," Parker shrugged, with a sweet smile. "I was hungry."

"And you couldn't go for some of the salty treats like the sandwiches, huh?" Booth asked, in a knowing tone. "You just had to go for the sweets." Parker shrugged again and kept his smile in place. "And where's Angela? I thought she was going to keep an eye on you for awhile."

"I don't know," Parker answered, looking very innocent. "I was thinkin she had something to do."

"I suppose you didn't give her the slip, huh?" Booth asked, not really expecting an answer. Which was a good thing, since all he got was another innocent smile. "I'm just glad you're staying with us tonight 'cause I wouldn't want to see your mom's reaction to the sugar high you're going to have later on. And why," he asked, changing the subject and looking up at Brennan, "did Angela choose to have a buffet, instead of a sit down dinner, when she was throwing such an elegant shindig?"

"She said she didn't want it to be too fancy," Brennan replied, with a shrug of her own.

"Didn't want it too fancy?" Booth repeated, incredulous, as he looked around the room. "Bones, have you looked around? We're in a ball room, with waiters going around serving champagne, and we're all wearing fancy clothes. How is this _not_ fancy?" 

"You know Angela," was the only thing Brennan could think to say. Before Booth could respond, Parker spoke up. 

"Dr. Bones?" he said, looking up at Brennan, with his version of the Booth smile.

"Yes, Parker," she said, looking down at him, with a warm smile.

"Can I dance with you?" was the surprising question. While his dad and Dr. Bones had been talking, Parker had been observing the couples that were moving to the dance floor and decided that it looked like fun. 

"I'd love to dance, Parker," Brennan told him, with a grin, after sharing a look with Booth.

As he saw the first love of his life, lead the second love of his life, to the dance floor, Booth muttered, "figures he'd get the first dance with my girlfriend." But he couldn't help but grin when he saw Parker imitate those around him and put one of his arms around Brennan's waist, hold her right hand with his left and then tried to lead her to the beat of the music. He loved watching the two most important people in his life as they shared such lovely moments.


	7. Chapter 7

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!

**A/N:** Well, here's the next chapter. I didn't take too long this time, did I? And let me tell you, this chapter is a doozy; a present for all those of you that like Parker as much as I do. And be warmed, this is long chapter. And I mean the longest chapter I've ever written - 16 pages in word. Hope you like long chapters!! Thanks to everyone that review last chapter and to Puppet for betaing. Please read, enjoy and let me know what you think!!

Chapter 7

"Now," Hodgins said, as he and Angela walked up to where Booth was standing, "that is a sight I never thought I'd see – Doctor Brennan, dancing with a six year old, and enjoying it."

"Yes, well," Angela replied, smiling, as she saw her best friend letting her boyfriend's little boy lead her all over the dance floor, "it seems like the Booth men know the secret to get her to do things she'd never thought she'd do."

"The Booth men?" Booth asked, as he turned towards the couple. "That is not my doing. It's all Parker; heck, I haven't even danced with her yet. My own son beat me to it!"

Angela laughed, at the complaining words said in a loving tone, while Hodgins just grinned.

"I have a bone to pick with you, Angela," Booth said suddenly, turning to face the artist.

"What?" she asked, looking surprise. "What have I done?"

"I thought you were going to look after Parker for a while?" he told her, with a light frown. "But, when I turned around, I found him over by the dessert table, stuffing himself with all kinds of sweets."

"Sorry, Booth," Angela said, wincing. "I turned around, for a minute, to deal with the caterers and when I looked back, he was gone. I was on my way to look for him when the servers had a question; by the time I finished dealing with all of that, you and Bren had already gotten to him."

Hearing how sorry she sounded, Booth dropped the frown and told her, "Don't worry about it, Angela. That kid has a sweets-radar; if there are sweets within a ten mile radius, he'd find them. And we're in a secured environment, so no harm was done."

"I guess," Angela said, still sounding contrite. "I suppose even a second is too long when you're looking after a kid, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Booth answered with feeling. "One second is all it takes for disaster to occur."

"Yes," she agreed with a sigh. "I learned that tonight. I guess I better keep that in mind if we're going to have kids."

"What?" Booth said, doing a double take. "Angela is there something you want to share with the rest of us?"

"No," Angela answered, with a Mona Lisa smile. "Not yet." Before Booth could respond or Hodgins had time to add anything to that provocative statement, Parker and Brennan came back from the dance floor

"Thank you, Parker," Brennan was saying. "That was lovely." Before Booth could prompt his son to give the right response, Parker was giving it.

"You're welcome, Dr. Bones," the six year old said. "I had a blast!"

"So did I," she agreed, and shared a smile with Booth, before she turned to look at the grinning artist and entomologist. At the knowing looks the couple was wearing, her smile dimmed.

"Miss Angela," Parker said, before Angela could tease Brennan – which was probably a good thing. "Would you like to dance?"

"Sure, honey," Angela answered, with a huge grin. "That's the best offer I've had all night," with a wink Hodgins' way, Angela took Parker's hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

"Your son is going to be a lady's man, isn't he?" Hodgins asked Booth.

"It seems like that," Booth said, with a shrug, as he put one arm around Brennan's waist. "I don't know where he's learned it, though."

"You don't where . . .?" Hodgins asked, disbelieving. "He gets it from you, man. I bet it's genetic," he said, shaking his head. "Pathetic, a six year old is getting more action than I am – and with _my_ wife!"

Both Brennan and Booth laughed at the complaint; Booth privately thinking that that was just how he had been feeling a few moments ago.

Less than fifteen minutes later, it was Cassie that was ending her dance with Parker. After having danced with all the ladies of the squint squad and having been a hit with all of them, Parker had decided to try his luck with the other ladies at the party. Since Cassie was the youngest, he had felt more comfortable going to her first.

"Thank you so much, Parker," Cassie told him, as he walked her off the dance floor. His daddy always told him to put his toys back where he found them, so Parker figured getting the ladies back to where they were, before the dance, was a good idea. And the ladies seemed to really like his good manners.

"You're welcome," Parker told her sweetly. "I had a very nice time."

"So did I," Cassie said, with a smile. "You're a great dancer."

"Thanks!" Parker said, beaming. "Well, I'm gonna go get something to drink now; dancing has made me very thirsty."

"Okay," Cassie nodded, biting back a chuckle, as he gave her one last nod and then ran off to look for something to drink.

"Having fun?" Vala asked her, coming up from behind her.

"Yes, I am," Cassie answered, as Vala stood next to her. "I just finished dancing with a six year old, who's a very good dancer."

"I saw," Vala smiled. "And frankly, I'm a bit jealous; he's danced with Brennan, Angela, Camille and now you, but he has yet to ask me to dance with him. What's wrong with me?" she asked with a pout.

"Nothing," Cassie told her, laughing. "I'm sure he'll ask you very soon; but right now he had something very important that he needed to take care of."

"And what might that be?"

"All this dancing has made him very thirsty and he needs something for it," Cassie answered, trying to sound serious, but ending with a slight chuckle at the young boy's excitement.

"Ah, I see," Vala said, as she nodded in understanding before she chuckled. "He is a cutie, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," Cassie agreed. "He's adorable."

"So, how are you doing?" Vala asked. "We haven't really talked to each other in a while."

"I'm doing very well," Cassie answered with a grin, "You?"

"Oh, I'm great," Vala replied, with a matching grin. "These days here in DC have been a hoot."

"I'm glad."

"So, how's the social life going?" Vala asked, with a wink.

"Meh," Cassie answered, with a shrug. "What social life? I've been too busy studying."

"Pshh," Vala said. "All work and no play, makes Cassie a very dull girl."

Cassie burst out laughing. "How is it that you've gotten such a good handle of the language, while Teal'c still struggles with it?" Cassie wanted to know.

"Oh, muscles understands way more than he lets on," Vala said, waving that away. "Now, let's get back to more important matters; you can't let your studies ruin your social life, Cassie. You're only young once and you should enjoy it!!"

"I am enjoying it, Vala," Cassie insisted. "But to tell you the truth, school's not the only reason I don't have much of a social life. I am just not attracted to the boys at school. They're just such . . . boys," she finished, with a shrug.

Vala nodded her understanding. Cassie's early life hadn't been easy and she'd gone through so much that she was a lot more mature than most of the other people her age. That, plus the fact that she had been around strong men for most of her life, would mean that the kids at school didn't really appeal to her.

"What about here?" Vala asked, waving her arm to indicate the people in the ball room. "Don't you see anyone you might like?"

"Here?" Cassie asked, incredulous. "Are you kidding? I've known most of the guys here since I was twelve and those that I haven't are so scared of Jack that they won't look twice at me. It's not easy getting dates when your uncle holds the guys career in the palm of his hands and is not shy about using that power."

"Yes," Vala nodded. "I can see how that might be a problem."

"Yup," Cassie said, and then asked, "hey, Vala, who's that?"

"Who?" Vala asked, turning to look at the party goers.

"That guy over there," Cassie answered, motioning with her head the way she meant, "the one that's talking to Daniel, Mitchell and that short guy with blue eyes."

"That guy is Dr. Hodgins," Vala told her, "Angela's husband and the owner of this house. And the one next to him is Dr. Zack Addy, another of the scientists that work with Booth."

"He's cute," Cassie commented.

"Zack? Really?" Vala asked, looking very surprised. "Yes, I guess he is cute," she said and then noticed the look on the younger woman's face. "Oh, no, you can't mean. . . Zack? You're interested in Zack? Didn't you just tell me there was no one here you thought was interesting?"

"Yeah, but I meant the military men," Cassie shrugged. "And that means most of the men here. So, tell me what do you know about Zack?"

"What's to say?" Vala asked. "He's a genius with two PhDs, works at the Jeffersonian and is part of Booth and Brennan's team. He's very good at his job, sweet, a bit naïve, and, like most geniuses, the subtleties of social interaction go right over his head."

"Do you think he'd like to dance with me?" Cassie asked, smiling in a way that would have had Jack glaring and Zack swallowing his tongue – a smile which Vala knew all too well.

"Oh, hon," Vala said slowly. "Do you really want to do that?"

"Sure," Cassie answered easily. "Why? You don't think he'd want to dance with me."

"Oh, no," Vala denied. "I'm sure he'd love to dance with you. But do you really want to ask him? I mean he's cute but he's shy and well, socially awkward. What would you talk about? He's a genius and talks like one."

"That's okay," Cassie replied, not at all bothered. "Don't forget, I've dealt with geniuses for most of my life. I know how to talk to them; that shouldn't be a problem."

"Yes, that's true," Vala conceded. "I like Zack, Cassie, are you sure you want to do this to him?"

"Do what to him?" Cassie asked, confused. "Dance with him? I might not be the best dancer but I don't think that I would hurt him."

"No, of course not," Vala shook his head. "But asking him to dance is akin to leading a lamb to slaughter."

"What?" Cassie asked, not only confused but starting to get offended. "What do you mean?"

"Well, honey," Vala said, soothingly. "Have you seen your family? And I don't only just mean Jack, I mean everyone. They're like a bunch of commandos. Look at them," she waved her hand in their direction, "this is a formal party and I bet you anything, every single one of them is armed. Do you really want to expose poor Zack to that bunch of lunatics?"

"_That_ bunch of lunatics?" Cassie repeated, with a grin, and Vala scrunched her nose. "Every single one of them is armed, really?"

"Yes," Vala nodded. "Jack and Mitchell are wearing guns under their uniform jackets. Daniel has one under his suit coat; I'm not sure where Sam has hers but I'm sure she has one. I mean she had one at her wedding, why wouldn't she have one now?"

"How about you?" Cassie asked, looking Vala up and down, "Do you have a gun too?"

"A gun?" Vala asked, with half a smile. "Where would I have a gun wearing this dress?" Cassie started to nod when Vala continued, "Now, daggers I do have. These hair sticks are great places to hide them, you know?" Cassie looked at her wide eyed, before she shook her head and went back to Vala's main point.

"Well, don't worry about Zack," Cassie finally said. "I'm only asking him to dance, not to spend the night." With that, and a wave, Cassie walked off towards Zack to ask for that dance.

"Wow, little man," Jack said, as a six-year old ran into his legs. "Where are you going in such a hurry, huh? You look as if the fires of Netu are after you."

"Huh?" Parker asked, frowning up at the tall man.

"Never mind," Jack waved that away. "Where are you going?" he repeated.

"To get something to drink," Parker answered. "I was dancin' and now I'm thirstin' to death! But I can't find any of the penguin people," he added, looking around. Jack grinned at hearing the waiters being referred to as 'penguin people'.

"Well, I don't know if they would have anything you could drink anyway," he commented, since most of what was circulating were alcoholic beverages. "Why don't I help you find someone that could help?"

"Sweet!" Parker beamed at the suggestion and Jack grinned back.

"Ok, then let's go. But before we do," Jack said, holding out his hand. "I'm Jack and if I'm not mistaken you're Booth's son, right?" Even though they had seen each other earlier on in the foyer, they hadn't been introduced.

"Yep," Parker nodded his head vigorously. "I'm Parker Booth," he said, as he shook Jack's hand firmly. "Nice to meet you," he added, mindful of the manners his mom and dad were always telling him about.

"Likewise," Jack said before waving him forward. "So, are you having fun?"

"Yup," Parker said, nodding his head with enthusiasm. "I'm havin' an awesome time! I danced with Dr. Bones, Angela, Cam and Cassie," he recounted with pride. "I wanna keep dancing but if I don't get something' to drink really fast, I might dehydrate!"

"I'm glad to hear you're having so much fun," Jack told him.

"This party is totally cool!" Parker added, and with a questioning look, asked. "Do you work with my daddy?

"No," Jack shook his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Cause you're wearin' a uniform like his," Parker answered with a shrug. "But they're different."

"Yes," Jack answered. "That's because your dad was in the Army and I'm in the Air Force."

"Air Force?" Parker repeated, scrunching his nose in thought. "Does that mean you fly planes?"

"No, well not right now," Jack replied. "Right now the only thing I fly is a desk but yes, I have flown planes before."

While Parker didn't understand everything Jack had said, he did understand that the gray-haired man knew how to fly. "Can you still fly now?"

"Yes, I still know how to fly," Jack answered with a grin. "I can fly most types of planes."

"Is it really hard?" Parker wanted to know. "Is it fun?" he asked, not giving Jack time to answer the first question. "I bet its lots of fun. You think you could give me a ride on a plane sometime?" he asked finally, looking up at Jack hopefully.

Jack laughed heartily and took the questions one at a time. "Is it hard? No, not really. But it takes a lot of practice and dedication. And yes, it is lots and lots of fun," this was said with a wide grin. "I'm not sure if we could go on a ride," seeing the crestfallen look on the young face looking up at him, he added, "maybe there's something I can do. I'll check on it."

"Thanks," Parker told him with a beaming grin. They stopped and Jack asked for a soda before turning to look back at Parker.

"You'll have your soda soon," Jack told him.

"Thank you," Parker said again, nodding. He then looked thoughtful as he asked, "what are all those colored thingys on your chest?" pointing at the rows of ribbons Jack was wearing. "My daddy has some too; are they the same?"

"They're called ribbons and they're given to represent a specific service or task a military officer carries out," Jack explained. When Parker's face showed that the six year old hadn't fully understood his explanation, Jack smiled and, thinking that he had spent way too much time talking to grown ups lately, amended his explanation, "they're basically a reward for a job well done." Parker's face cleared up, showing that he understood that explanation.

"I probably have some that are the same as your dad's," Jack continued, "but I'd think most are different."

"You have a lot more than he does," Parker commented, as he intently studied the rows and rows of colorful ribbons on Jack's chest. "Does that mean you're more important than my daddy?"

"Well," Jack began, not sure how to answer that question. "I don't know about more important but I am a general and your dad is a major; plus, I've been in the Air Force a lot longer than he was in the Army."

"General?" Parker repeated. "Is that your title?" he asked, looking up at Jack with a curious frown.

"It's kinda like a title," Jack explained. "But in the military we call it 'rank'."

"Rank," Parker tried it out. "Is yours higher than my dad?"

"Yes," Jack nodded, "general is higher rank than major."

"General," Parker said again, "it sounds very important. Are you in charge of everything in the Air Force?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"No, not everything," Jack answered laughing. "But," he continued, when Parker looked disappointed, "I am in charge of a lot of things. In fact," he added, pausing and looking around at everyone in the ballroom, "I am the ranking officer – the boss of most everyone here tonight."

"You are?" Parker asked with wide open eyes, "that's a _lot_ of people."

"Yep," Jack said, rocking back on his heels and smiling smugly, now that he'd suitably impressed the six year old. "And this is not even half of everyone I'm in charge of. There are a lot more that couldn't make it tonight."

"Wow," Parker breathed in awe, as he turned and studied all the people in the ballroom and imagined how many more people Jack was the boss of. "I wanna be a general and tell every body what to do!" he declared firmly, turning to look back at Jack.

"Well," Jack chuckled, "I don't see a problem with that. You'll have to study and work very hard but if I made general, I can't imagine why you couldn't." After a few moments pause, he asked, "Do you know which branch you'd like to join? The Army or the Air Force?" he conveniently forgot that there were two more alternatives, why bother the kid with such pesky details.

"Do you get to fly airplanes in the Army?" Parker wanted to know, as he tried to make a decision.

"Nope," Jack shook his head.

"Is there anything cool you can drive in the Army?" Parker insisted.

"Trucks," Jack shrugged, "cars."

"Planes are cooler," Parker stated. "I wanna join the Air Force," he finally decided and Jack nodded.

"Wise decision," he said approvingly.

"Did you just make a new recruit, Jack?" A voice from behind Jack asked and both man and child turned to look at the newcomer.

"Sam," Jack greeted with a big grin, as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Parker," he said, turning back to the six year old, "this is my wife, Sam. Sam," he told her as he places his arm around her waist, "this is Parker Booth - Booth's son."

"Nice to meet ya," Parker said, with a smile, as he offered his hand, just as his dad had taught him.

"Likewise," Sam said, smiling. "So, you're the charmer that has been dancing with all the ladies, huh?"

"Yup," Parker nodded. "I like dancing; it's loads of fun. But its got me very thirsty."

"Yes," Jack said, nodding towards the waiter that was bringing Parker's drink, "and here's his drink now."

"Thanks," Parker grinned, as he reached out and took the glass full of soda. He immediately started drinking it.

Sam grinned at the enthusiasm with which Parker drank the soda. "Did I hear right?" Sam asked Jack. "Did you just recruit Parker to the Air Force?"

"Yes," Jack answered with a smile. "He wants to be a general."

"Yup," Parker agreed, taking a break from drinking. "I want to be a general so I can tell everyone what to do!"

"The little man," Jack said with a grin, "wants to be _The_ Man."

"So, I see," Sam grinned at Jack, knowing his views on being 'the man'. "And you want to join the Air Force?"

"Yep," Parker nodded, and went back to drinking.

"Your father was in the Army," Sam pointed out. "Don't you think he might want you to follow in his footsteps?"

"I know," Parker said, frowning and looking torn about that possibility. "But the Army doesn't have planes and I wanna fly planes."

"I see," Sam nodded.

"Jack knows how to fly them and he said he'd take me on one," Parker informed Sam after finishing his drink, with an audible "Ahhhhh", and a burp. "Whoops! Excuse me!" he said, smiling sweetly and getting a smile in return from both Jack and Sam.

"Did he?" Sam asked, looking at her husband and Parker nodded, enthusiastically.

"Yes, well," Jack answered, "we have to ask your father first; we don't know if he'd say yes."

"I sure hope he says yes," Parker immediately answered. "He likes planes. Oh, can we invite Dr. Bones too? I know she'll like it; she's really cool."

"You like Dr. Bones, don't you?" Sam asked, smiling at his excited inclusion of the doctor.

"Yep, I really do," Parker nodded, grinning. "She's really smart and knows _everything_. She knows all about bones and insects and she's not grossed out by _any_thing; and she doesn't mind if we get dirty and when we wrestle, she doesn't yell, she gets down on the floor with us and helps me beat daddy," everything was said in almost one breath. It seemed he was too excited to stop and breathe as he recounted all the ways Brennan was cool.

"She sounds very neat," Jack nodded.

"She is," Parker agreed. "And she doesn't worry about all that yucky girl stuff like how's her hair, or if her face is painted or stuff like that," this list was said with a frown, which only intensified as he finished it.

"What's wrong, Park?" Jack asked

"Nothin," Parker shrugged. "It's just that she's looking like a girl tonight."

"You don't like how she looks tonight?" Sam asked. "You don't think she looks pretty?"

"She looks very pretty," Parker answered. "But everyone was looking at her," the complaint was accompanied by the biggest frown yet. "She's my Dr. Bones – mine and my daddy's; why are they looking at her? They should get their own," was said with a pout, which then cleared up as he smiled, "but my daddy took care of it. He gave them the look he gives me when I'm doing something wrong; it's a very scary look," he added with a satisfied nod. "They won't look at her again."

Sam turned to look at Jack and found him nodding in agreement; she turned back to look at Parker and had to shake her head. She found fascinating the fact that a six year old could express such feelings of possessiveness and jealousy when he wouldn't be able to articulate what those concepts meant for years. It seemed Booth had a little alpha male in the making – which, when she thought about it, went hand in hand with him wanting to be a general.

"I hope she won't become a real girl," Parker wished, almost forlornly. Sam and Jack shared a look and bit their lips to stop their laughs from coming out.

"Oh, Parker, I wouldn't worry about it," Sam said with a grin. "Even 'cool' girls like to dress up every now and then. But it doesn't change them, believe me; by tomorrow she'll be the 'cool Dr. Bones' that you know and love."

"You think?" Parker asked, not sounding at all convinced.

"I'd believe her," Jack told him with a nod before he leaned in and told him in a soft voice, "'cause you know what?" he asked and Parker shook his head, his wide eyes trained on Jack's twinkling ones. "I know for a fact that Sam would much rather be wearing jeans and working on her motorcycle than wearing that dress and walking around on those heels."

"You have a motorcycle?" Parker asked Sam, his eyes even wider and very interested. Sam nodded her head and grinned at the way Jack was elevating her in the little boy's eyes.

"Plus," Jack added, "she's also in the Air Force; she's a Colonel and not only can she fly any plane out there but she can also take apart and put together their engines."

"You can fly planes too?" Parker asked, sounding even more impressed than when he found out Jack could fly them. Sam nodded and Jack grinned at the look on Parker's face. "And you're a conol?"

"A colonel," Sam corrected, gently.

"Is that more than a general?" Parker wanted to know, sending Jack a mischievous look.

"No," Sam shook her head, grinning. "General is the highest rank there is. Colonel is one rank below."

"Is that higher that my daddy's rank?" Parker asked.

"Yes," Jack answered, never one to miss the opportunity to show how proud of his wife he was. "In fact, with a few exceptions, she's the boss of almost everyone here too."

"Really?" now, Parker was really impressed and looked at Sam with new eyes. "That's so cool," he breathed. Jack nodded and winked at Sam, who rolled her eyes at her husband before grinning down at Parker. Parker brought his drink back up only to remember that he'd already finished it. Jack reached out for the glass when Parker looked around to find a place to put down the drink. When he was no longer holding the glass, Parker turned back to Sam and asked, "do you want to dance?"

"I'd love to," Sam said, her smile growing. With a grin over her shoulder at Jack, Sam let Parker lead her onto the dance floor.

"There's something odd about it," Brennan was saying to Hodgins and Camille. "I'd like you both and Zack to examine the body and see if you see the same thing I do."

"Of course," Hodgins nodded. "I guess I could stop by for a few hours tomorrow. And I doubt Zack will have anything better to do."

When both doctors turned to look at Camille, waiting for her response, she sighed and asked, "I supposed it can't wait until Monday?"

"It could," Brennan admitted. "But I would really like for you to examine it tomorrow. If it is what I think it is, then it'd be better if we don't wait."

"What do you think it is?" Hodgins asked, sounding intrigued.

"I'd rather not say," Brennan said, after a small hesitation. "I don't want to influence you in any way. If it is what I think, you'd find it without me saying anything."

"Now you've caught my interest," Camille said, with a smile. "I presume there's enough flesh and meat for me to run my tests?"

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "There's more than enough for you to do your tests."

"Fine," Camille finally said, with a nod, before turning to look at Mitchell who was sitting a few feet away talking with some of his SGC buddies. "I can come in for a couple of hours."

"I'm sure Mitchell can entertain himself for that long," Hodgins said with smirk. Camille just glared at him but Booth arrived before she could say anything.

"I hope you're not talking about work, Bones," he said, as he came to stand behind her and placed his arm around her waist. "This is a party and no place to be talking about the dead."

"Yes, Booth," Brennan said, in the tone of someone that had said the same many times before. "So you've told me. We were only talking about going to the lab tomorrow."

"Ah, come on, Bones," Booth protested, looking at the other two before looking back at Brennan. "Not only are you going in but now you've ruined these guys' Sunday too?"

"I haven't ruined anything," she denied firmly. "The body you brought me today had some very interesting qualities and I just wanted . . ."

"Nope," Booth said, shaking his head. "I don't need to know anything more. Whatever you guys want to do is fine by me. Just tell me what the results are and I'm happy. It's no skin off my nose if you squints want to spend your Sunday stuck in the lab." At the glares he received, he shrugged and left that subject in favor of what he'd wanted to talk to Brennan about in the first place. "Come on, Bones, let's dance," he told her, as he took her hand and started to pull her towards the dance floor. "I can't let my son be the only one you've dance with, can I?"

Brennan started to protest but let him pull her anyway. As they left Hodgins and Camille behind, Zack walked by them; uncharacteristically, Booth slowed down and put his hand on the young doctor's shoulder. "That girl you were dancing with," he said in a low voice, "is General O'Neill's niece. I'd be very careful how you behave around her; the general is very trigger happy." After giving that small piece of advice, Booth patted Zack's shoulder and continued pulling Brennan to the dance floor.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Brennan asked, as they walked out of Zack's hearing range.

"Hey," Booth protested, "I was just giving the kid a piece of good advice."

"Yes, of course," Brennan nodded. "And the fact that you probably just scared him to death wasn't the least bit enjoyable to you?"

"Well," he drawled out, with a grin. "That _was_ a perk."

Brennan shook her head and, after looking around the dance floor for a minute, said, "I see Parker found a new dance partner, huh?"

Booth followed her line of sight and said, "Yes, I saw." Booth wanted Parker to be independent and self-sufficient; as such, he liked to give Parker as much free rein as he could. Of course, he always kept an eye out for him and knew where he was – even when they were in such a secured environment. With a grin, he continued, "he also had what seemed like a very nice conversation with General O'Neill."

"Thank you, ma'am," Parker said, as he led Sam from the dance floor. "That was a lot of fun."

"Yes, it was," Sam said, grinning down at him. "Hey, Vala," she said, as they walked up to where the former space pirate was standing by the drinks table. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she answered with a grin. "Just had a drink," Sam nodded and looked down at Parker.

"Parker this is my friend Vala," she then turned to Vala, motioned to Parker, and said, "Vala this is Parker Booth, Booth's son."

"Hello, Parker," Vala said, with a grin, at the little boy. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you, ma'am," Parker said, with a sweet smile. "Do you work with Jack and Sam too?"

"Yes, I do," Vala nodded.

"Are you a Colonel or General too?" he asked eagerly and both women laughed out loud.

"No," Vala shook her head. "I'm not in the military. I'm sorry," she added, as she saw his disappointment.

"So, you're not in charge of anyone?" he asked, sounding regretful that she had no power over anyone.

"Well," Vala drawled out, "I wouldn't say that. I'm in charge of Daniel; and I can always tell Muscles and Mitchell what to do." Sam grinned and nodded at Parker to let him know Vala did tell those men what to do all the time.

"And," Sam added, trying to raise the other woman in the little boy's eyes, just as Jack had done a few minutes earlier for her, "she knows how to fly just about as many aircrafts as Jack and I can."

"Really?" Parker asked, wide eyed and interested. "You can fly too?"

"Yep," Vala said, grinning. "There's no space. . . I mean, there are no airplanes I can't fly."

"Cool," Parker said, enthusiastically. "Jack said he's gonna try and take me flying; do you wanna go?"

"I'd love to," Vala answered.

"Sweet," Parker said before asking with a wide smile, "do you want to dance?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Vala said, with a grin, and turned to put down her glass. "Let's go." Parker took her hand and led her onto the dance floor.

Sam grinned as she saw them thread their way through the dancers until they found a good spot and started dancing. She smiled and unconsciously settled into the at ease stance as she looked around the room; Booth and Brennan were in their own world as they danced, Vala was laughing out loud as Parker led her around the dance floor, Cassie was off to the side talking to Jacob and General Hammond, Mitchell was still on the same chair he'd been on most of the night talking to Ferrati and SG4, Camille was close to Mitchell's chair chatting with Hodgins, and Zack (who if Sam wasn't mistaken, kept sneaking peeks at Cassie), Janet was talking to Teal'c, Ishta and Kar'yn, while Bratac, Rya'c and Daniel talked amongst themselves a few feet from them. And Angela was fleeting from one group to another, making sure everyone had what they wanted and were having fun.

And they were all having fun, Sam had to agree. This might not be the quiet night Jack and she had envisioned but she had to admit it was good to be in the company of so many good friends and family. Just as she started to turn to look for her husband, she felt his arms go around her waist from behind.

"Hey, there," Jack whispered in her ear before dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she answered, as she relaxed into his embrace. "Just looking around and realized that everyone is having fun, and that we're very lucky to have such good friends."

"Yes, you're right," Jack nodded, as he too, took a minute to look at the party guests. "So, are you happy?"

"Yes," she said immediately and firmly. "The last year – actually the last three years have been the best of my life." She squeezed the hand around her waist and added, "Are you having fun? I know this isn't exactly what you had in mind for tonight but . . ."

"No, it wasn't what I pictured," Jack said when Sam trailed off. "But it is nice to see everyone together and spend some time with them. And we have had a lot of time alone lately," he looked at her and winked and she grinned. "Yes, I am having fun. But, Sam, you know that I can be stuck in Netu and as long as you're there, I'm happy."

"I know," Sam said, with a sweet smile, before she turned around in his arms and kissed him. A few seconds later, they broke away and with a grin, she pulled him onto the dance floor. It was her anniversary party, there was no way she'd let the night go by without dancing with her husband.


	8. Chapter 8

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, neither the Bones characters nor the SG1 characters or the premise of either show are mine. If they were, believe me, my live would be sooo much simpler and the characters would be soooooo much more fulilled!

**A/N:** Well, here's the next chapter. I'm sorry it took so long but real life decided it wanted attention and then musie decided to go on an extended vacation. Thankfully, she seems to have finally come back. This chapter has the promised smut, though not as I had planned; BB were more in a flirting mood than in a really smutty mood. Oh, well, you gotta go where musie takes you. I also advance the plot a bit. With luck, the next chapter wont be so long in coming and we'll then we'll see what happens. Thanks for all your reviews and all those alert, which I've kept getting even though I haven't updated in more than a month. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the other ones. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 8

"Oh, that's adorable," Angela said as she sat down next to Brennan, who was holding a sleeping Parker on her lap on an out of the way couch. The best selling author had sought out the quiet corner when the party had started to wind down and Parker had begun to crash from his sugar high. "You two look so cute together."

"Angela," Brennan said, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Angela asked, innocently. "You gotta agree it's true."

"I admit," Brennan murmured, looking down at the sleeping child, "that Parker's cute – especially when he's asleep."

Brennan looked so maternal as she brush Parker's hair off his forehead that Angela had to conceal a sigh; she had never thought that 'maternal' would be a word she'd use to describe the forensic anthropologist. But her friend had grown a lot since she'd met Booth.

"Umm," Angela said, "he is a cutie. But then," she added with a smirk in Booth's direction, "he has the gene for it, doesn't he?"

"You think Booth is cute?" Brennan asked, grinning.

"Sweetie," Angela said in a lecturing tone, "kids Parker's age are cute; men Booth's age are hot."

"Angela," Brennan reprimanded her, shaking her head.

"What?" the artist asked again. "Are you going to tell me you don't think so?"

"Well," Brennan said in a thoughtful tone, "I guess that when you're right, you're right," she finished with a grin.

"Yep," Angela agreed. When Brennan covered a yawn, Angela said, "Tired, huh?"

"Yes," Brennan answered. "It's been a long day and I have an early day tomorrow."

"Yes," Angela nodded, "Hodgins told me about going to the lab tomorrow. Can't what it is you want them to check wait until Monday?"

"No," Brennan said, shaking her head. "I'm afraid it can't wait."

"Why not?" Angela asked. "I mean it's a shame that someone is dead but since he is dead, it won't really matter if we wait a day, will it?"

"Normally it wouldn't," Brennan admitted. "But in this case," she shook her head, "if I'm right, we don't have the luxury of waiting even one day."

"Why?" Angela insisted. "What's different about this case?"

Brennan opened her mouth but then hesitated and shook her head. "No, I don't want to say anything yet in case I'm wrong. I don't want to prejudice any of you." She paused for a moment to look down at Parker again and murmured, "I only hope that I am wrong about this one."

Angela looked at her for a few moments before sighing, "Ok, Bren, if you think this is so important, I'll go in tomorrow too and do what I can to help."

"Thanks, Ang," Brennan told her; before Angela could respond, a shadow fell over them, making the two friends look up.

"Jack, Sam," Angela said, smiling at the couple. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes," Sam answered, smiling. "Everything's fine. We just wanted to thank you for a lovely party." Since the party had been in Jack and Sam's honor, the couple had spent the last half hour saying good bye to all their guests. With a few exceptions, most of the guests had been beamed back to the SGC; the exception had been those that either lived in DC or the ones that, like Hammond and Teal'c and his family, had family and friends with whom to stay.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "It wasn't the night alone with Sam that I wanted . . ."

"Jack!" Sam interrupted him in a scolding tone.

"What?" Jack asked innocently, "It's the truth," he added with a shrug and Sam rolled her eyes and Brennan and Angela sat there and grinned.

"It was a lovely party," Sam told Angela again. "It was great to see all our friends and family in one room again. I think the last time that happened was . . ."

"A year ago," Jack finished for her, "at our wedding. It really was nice to celebrate with all of them," he added seriously. "I know I gave you and Vala a hard time about the party but it was a good idea. So, thank you."

"You're welcome," Angela said with a small smile while Sam looked up at her husband with adoring eyes and snuggled closer into his side. "Vala and I had a great time planning it."

"And you did a fantastic job," Sam told her. "But it's getting late and we better get going."

"Yes," Brennan agreed, making eye contact with Booth, who was standing a few feet away talking with Mitchell and Daniel and motioned him over, "it is rather late. I think maybe we should all call it a night."

"Yes, I guess you guys are right," Angela said, getting to her feet.

"Here, Bones," Booth said, walking up to where Brennan was sitting, "I'll take him." He leaned down and pick up Parker, who stirred just enough to murmur, "daddy," and put his arms around Booth's neck.

"Well, Ishta and Kar'yn are all settled for the night," Hodgins announced as he walked back to the group, after making sure the new houseguests were taken care of. "You guys leaving?" he asked as he saw Booth carrying Parker, Brennan standing up.

"Yes," Brennan answered as she stretched the kinks out of her back. "I have an early day tomorrow and Parker should really be in bed by now."

"Oh, isn't that sweet," Angela gushed, "she sounds just like a mommy."

"Angela," Brennan said, rolling her eyes. "Give it a rest, will you?"

"Ok, Bren, I will," Angela agreed. "At least for tonight," she added with a wink.

"We're leaving too," Camille said, as she and Mitchell also joined the group. "It's been a long day and Cameron should really rest his leg."

"Ah, is poor, little Mitchell in too much pain from his boo-boo?" Booth asked with a smirk in a little boy's tone.

"Bite me, Booth," was Mitchell's scathing retort, which made Booth chuckle as he turned and started walking towards the door.

"You must really be in pain," he threw over his shoulder, "if that's the best you can come up with."

"Ha," Mitchell snorted, "I'd like to see you with a broken leg and doing half as well as I have been."

"Please," Booth stopped walking and turned back towards Mitchell to continue the ribbing but Brennan stopped him.

"Children, please," she said as she walked past Booth towards the door, "it's late and I'm tired; do you think you could postponed this little pissing contest until another time?" She asked them sweetly and had both men surprised at her use of the word 'pissing.' "Preferably when I'm not around?" she added in a lower voice and with a shake of her head.

Vala, who had been standing by the door talking to Teal'c, Bra'tac and Rya'c, heard her and laughed at how easily the forensic anthropologist could put grown men in their place.

"You and Daniel are staying, right?" Angela asked Vala. "Along with Jonas, Janet and Cassie?" she added, looking at the trio who were walking towards the group.

"Sure," Vala said with a nod, which was copied by Jonas and Janet. "We don't want to intrude on the happy couple – especially tonight when they still have some private celebrating left to do," she added with a suggestive leer.

"Vala!!" Sam protested but Jack laughed and thanked the former space pirate for her consideration.

Daniel just shrugged at Sam as if to say 'what can you do?' And Sam just shook her head in resignation that there really was nothing to do. Neither Jack nor Vala were easy to control and having the two of them in the same room was just asking for trouble.

The group of friends spent the next few minutes saying good bye and commenting on what a good time they'd all had that night. But before long, the people that were leaving left, those that were staying made their way towards their rooms and the ground floor of the grand house that had been full of music and laughter that night was finally silent.

Forty-five minutes later, Brennan was changing while Booth tucked Parker in.

"Is Parker down for the night?" she asked, when Booth walked back into the bedroom.

"Yes, he is," Booth answered, watching as she stepped out of her dress. She was left wearing only a strapless bra, underwear and heels and the sight of her had him closing the door firmly behind him. What he had planned for the next hour or so was best not interrupted by an impressionable child.

"You know, Bones," he said as he walked slowly towards her, undoing his shirt, "you do look great in that dress."

"Thank you," she answered as she hung up the dress in question.

"Yeah," Booth murmured, "that sure was some back."

Brennan laughed and said, "I knew you'd like that part." When she turned, she found that he was much closer than she'd thought.

"Of course," he added as he put his arms around her, "you look much better out of it."

"You think so?" Brennan asked as she placed her arms around his neck.

"Ummm," Booth said as he guided his hands up and down Brennan's bare back. "You look gorgeous with nothing on but your skin – and maybe with a couple of nice, little, decorative pieces," he added, running his finger along the top edge of her bra. His finger followed the line of the bra to her back, where he unhooked it. He took a step back and looked at her, "nope, nothing beats bare skin."

"Well, if that's true," she said in a throaty voice, "don't you think you're a little overdressed?"

"Maybe," he said with a smirk. "Why don't you do something about it? I'm kind of busy trying to optimize my view," he added as his finger reached the waistband of her panties.

"You're right," she agreed as she started to unbutton his shirt. "When you want something done right, you better do it yourself."

"Yup," he said as he pushed her panties down her legs. "Wow, Bones," he breathed as he took a step back and took a long look of her naked body, "you are a sight. I especially love the shoes. They just really make the look come together."

"You're a nut," she told him, shaking her head. "You know that, right?" she added with a smile, before she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. "Now, stay still so I can improve my view."

"Whatever you say, Bones," he agreed with a chuckle. But of course he wasn't completely still; his hands reached out and cupped her breasts.

"Booth!" she protested as she started to work on his belt. "Do you call that staying still?"

"Well, I'm not really moving, am I?" he asked, even as he squeezed her nipples.

"Ah!" she cried out as her eyes momentarily fell closed. "You're moving enough," she whispered and allowed herself to get lost in the sensations he was evoking for a few moments. "Ok," she declared a few seconds later, "enough. It's time to even the table."

"Even the score, Bones," Booth corrected patiently as his pants and underwear dropped down to his ankles. "The saying is 'even the score'."

"Whatever," Brennan said, waving the matter aside, "the important thing is that it's been done."

"Yeah," he agreed with a grin, "I guess it has." In a few seconds, he toed off his shoes and stepped out of the puddle his pants and underwear had made at his feet. He took one step forward and swept Brennan up into his arms. "And now," he told her as he walked to the bed, "the really good part of the evening can begin." With a grin, he let her drop down onto the bed.

Brennan caught the shriek before it left her lips as she bounced on the bed. She thought about frowning at him but was in too good a mood to bother; instead, she kicked off her shoes and knelt behind Booth, who had sat down at the edge of the bed to take off his socks.

"You know, Seeley," she purred in his ear, "you were right. Nothing beats bare skin," she gently bit his shoulder as she let her hands roam across his chest. "Especially," she continued as he let his head fall backwards towards her shoulder, "when it's such taut and hot skin over such well defined and hard and strong muscles." Each adjective was said with a purr and had Booth twitching in his seat.

"Temperance," he called out her name, drawing it out. "You trying to drive me crazy?"

"Nope," she answered, laughing. "I'm trying to have fun; driving you crazy is just a very nice side benefit."

With a growl, Booth made use of his sniper reflexes and before she knew it, Brennan found herself beneath a grinning Booth.

"Now," he said, sounding very satisfied, "we can start to really have fun."

"Why is it," she started to ask with a pout, even as she put her arms around his neck, "that I have to be under you for you to really have fun?"

"Because," he started to answer as he lowered his mouth to hers, "this is the only time when I'm reasonably sure that I have the upper hand with you."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," she warned him, sliding her foot over his calf and onto his lower thigh. Those yoga and karate lessons were good for more than just self-defense or meditation.

"With you, Bones," Booth told her, his lips almost touching hers, "the only thing I'm sure of is that I love you." With that, he finally lowered his mouth onto hers and kissed her deeply.

"Good," Brennan murmured when they finally came up for air. "Wouldn't want you to become too comfortable, would we? I mean, you might get bored if you did."

"Trust me, Temperance," he said as he started to kiss his way down her neck. "Bored is the last thing I could ever be when I'm with you."

"That's good," Brennan started to say but it ended in a gasp when Booth's mouth reached her breast. She threaded her fingers through his hair and held his head in place and once again let the sensations his touch evoked take her away from the here and now.

Sometime later, when they were able to once again breathe normally and form a coherent thought, Brennan leaned over to set the alarm.

"What you doing?" Booth asked in a sleepy murmur as he shifted to cuddle closer to her.

"I'm setting the alarm," Brennan answered.

"The alarm?" Booth asked around a yawn. "But tomorrow is Sunday," he protested

"I know," she said as she settled back down. "But I have to go in; I told you there's something about those remains . . ."

"That look hinky to you," Booth interrupted, "yes, I know. But why are you setting the alarm? You're not planning on going at the crack of dawn, are you?"

"Hardly," she denied. "Still, I want to go there at a reasonable hour."

"Bones," Booth said in a drawl, "what you consider reasonable and what other people consider reasonable are two completely different things."

"Har har," Brennan said, scrunching her nose.

"Seriously though," Booth said after chuckling. "Don't set the alarm too early."

"Booth," she protested, "there are a lot of things I have to do."

"Do you or do you not need the help of the other squints to determine if whatever theory you've come up with is true?" he asked around another yawn.

"Well, yes," she admitted, "but . . ."

"No buts," he cut in. "You need their help and I can almost guarantee you that no one is going to be there first thing tomorrow morning. So, what's the use of being there at that time yourself?" he asked and then went on before she could answer. "Come on, Bones, tomorrow is Sunday and we've had a late night; at least go in at 9, like any other day."

"I rarely get in after 8, Booth," she protested again.

"So, you don't," he allowed. "Ok, then, be a devil for once; live dangerously."

"I don't know," Brennan vacillated.

"Temperance Brennan," he said in a warning tone, "if that alarm clock goes off before 8 tomorrow morning, I can guarantee you won't leave this bed until 9 sharp."

"Really?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "And how will you accomplish that?"

"Oh, I have my methods," he said as he leaned in and started nuzzling her neck.

"I know all your methods," she said and even though she tried for a stiff tone, it still came out in a breathless one. "And didn't you just employ them?"

"Yeah," he agreed, getting a bit more serious, "but who said I could only employ them once?"

"No one," she agreed, humming in a pleasure. "But I thought you were tired."

"Not that tired," was the muffled the response from somewhere around her chest. He nibbled his way to her nipple, which he sucked on hard. She gasped and threaded her fingers through his hair.

"Booth," she breathed out, "I have a long day tomorrow."

"Ummm," he replied. "So you want me to stop?" he asked, as he let his hands wander down her body.

"Well," she said, drawing the word out. "I . . ." whatever she'd been about to say ended on a moan when his hand reached the aching place between her legs. "Seeley," she moaned instead.

"Yeah, Bones," he answered before he switched to her other breast and slid two fingers into her wet heat. "You want me to stop?" he asked again, before nipping her nipple and thrusting deeply into her.

"Stop and die," she growled before pulling his head back down. Booth laughed and after another nip, he began to kiss his way down her body.

Brennan shivered and thought about returning the favor but was feeling too languid to actually do it. She shuddered and had to bite her hand to keep her moan quiet when Booth's mouth reached her throbbing center. She arched her back and dug her fingernails into his head and shoulders as the rhythm of his tongue increased and she quickly reached her climax.

"That was . . . good," she managed to get out when she caught her breath.

"Good," he said as he crawled back up her body and settled on top of her. "I'm glad; wouldn't have wanted to go to all that trouble for it not to be good."

"No danger of that," she told him with a smile before she flipped him over.

"Bones!" Booth yelped before he could help himself when he found he was under her. "I thought you were wiped out."

"Not that wiped out," she countered with a smirk; she loved to turn his words back on him. "I think that it's your turn now," she told him as she settled on top of him with her legs on the outside of his. She wasn't sure where this second wind had come from but she didn't think it would last long so she'd better act before it left.

"Well," he drawled and shifted under her. "If you insist," he started on a whisper that ended on a gasp when she moved her hips and with a final twist of them enveloped his hard cock in her tight body.

Though they were both tired, they were also both on the edge and with a few swift, hard thrusts of their hips, they both went right over. Brennan leaned forward and sealed her lips over his to stifle both their moans as they came.

A few minutes later, before they drifted off to sleep, Brennan asked what she'd meant to ask earlier. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Ummm, yes," Booth answered as he moved his arm to pull her closer to his side. "I'm going to meet the general, Teal'c, Master Bra'tac and Rya'c in the morning. They're going to teach me some more Jaffa martial arts."

"That sounds like fun," she commented, wrapping her arm across his chest and leg across his hips.

"It should be," he replied around a yawn. "If you didn't insist on going to work tomorrow, you could come too."

"I told you, it's important . . ." she started to say only to be interrupted by him.

"Important that you go in tomorrow," he finished for her. "I know, I know," he said and had to cover his smile at her glare. "Well, I'm sure there'll be other opportunities."

"I hope so," she said as her eyes started to fall close. "So, is Rebecca picking Parker up early tomorrow?"

"Nah," Booth shook his head. "I'm taking him at the normal time; he's coming with me in the morning."

"To watch you practice martial arts?" she asked, shifting so that she could look up at him. "Won't he be bored?"

"I don't thinks so," he replied. "He wants to go; he was with me when I was making the plans with the general and he seemed very excited about it. Besides, he won't just be watching. Master Bra'tac and Teal'c are going to teach him the basics."

"What?" she asked. "You mean to tell me you're going to have Parker practice with you guys?"

"Yes, of course," Booth answered simply, not seeing a problem. "I've been meaning to enroll him in some martial arts classes anyway; this will be a good introduction."

"Are you crazy?" she asked again, moving to lean on one elbow. "You're going to take a not yet 7 years old to practice martial arts with Jaffa warriors?"

"Sure," Booth shrugged. "What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong . . .?" she started to repeat, sounding incredulous. "Booth, Parker is a 7 year old child!!"

"I know that, Bones," he said patiently. "He is my son."

"Well, then," she asked, "what are you thinking exposing him to such danger?"

"Danger?" he repeated, confused about her reaction but pleased that she worried so much about his son. "Bones, there's no danger; we're just going to practice some moves, that's all."

"Yes," she nodded, "but you're going to be practicing those moves with Jaffa warriors, Booth!" she said, putting emphasis on those two words as if that explained why she was reacting like she was.

"Bones, there's no danger," he repeated with a sigh, "Master Bra'tac will be the one working with Parker; he's the one that taught Teal'c and Rya'c and he's overseen the training of young Jaffa for years. Do you know that they start their training before the kids are even adolescents?"

"Well, that's fine for them," Brennan said, sitting up, "but they're bred warriors, aren't they? That was why they were created – to fight. Parker, however, is a little boy, a normal, human 7 year old little boy. And you want to take him to 'train' with people that could kill him in less than five seconds?"

"Bones," he said with a grin, pulling her down on top of him, "I love it that you worry so much about my son; it shows just how much you've come to care about him."

"Well, of course I care about him," she said in a huff, as she moved to settle to the side of him. "He's a great kid."

"I know," he agreed with a grin. "And he'll have a great time tomorrow, trust me."

"Umm," she replied, nowhere near convinced. "Does Rebecca know you're taking Parker tomorrow?"

"No," he answered, "I don't have to tell her everything I do with him. Besides," he added with a wry smile, "it'd be kinda hard to explain don't you think? She doesn't know anything about the Stargate or Jaffa."

"Yes, I guess you're right," she allowed after a moment's thought. "Still, I don't think she'd approve."

"Bones," he said, making a sound between a groan and a laugh. "He'll be fine; don't worry. And he will have a lot of fun," he repeated, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sure he will," she nodded. "He seems to have really taken to General O'Neill, hasn't he?"

"Yes," Booth agreed, sleepily. "It seems the general has a knack for getting along with children."

"He certainly seems to have made a good impression on Parker," she commented. "Parker was telling me how when he grows up he wants to be a general so that he could be in charge of everything just like general Jack."

"Well," he said, grinning, "there are a lot worse role models or career paths he could choose."

"That's true," she agreed. "There are worse things he could be than an Air Force general."

"Ummm," he started to agree until he realized what she had said. "Air Force!!" he exclaimed, leaning up. "Why does he want to join the Air Force for? There are generals in the Army too! Why can't he be an Army general?"

"Because the Army doesn't have planes and he wants to fly," was the simple answer before she tugged him back down. "Now, come down here; I'm tired and I want to sleep. You can convince him that the Army is better later," she suggested as she cuddled into his side when he lay down.

"You do that, honey," she told him, patting his chest. "But do it tomorrow, huh? Let's go to sleep now, ok?" she suggested. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

With a grumbled okay, Booth settled down and they finally drifted off to sleep. Brennan thinking of everything she'd need to do the following day and Booth planning on how to convince Parker the Army was a much better choice than the Air Force.

At mid-morning the following day, Brennan's theory was confirmed and she called Booth to let him know.

"Booth," she said into the phone when he picked up. "You need to come to the lab. We've just confirmed that the remains you brought yesterday are those of a clone."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Disclaimer: **No, still not mine - more's the pity.

**A/N:** Well, here's the next chapter and the plot's moving!! It took me a bit more than a week but nowhere as long as last time, huh? Since I'm really advancing the plot here, it took me a bit longer than I'd plan but I think it came out ok. Let me know what you think!! Enjoy!

"Very good," Master Bra'tac said, as he stood up and offered Booth his hand. "I can see why Teal'c thinks so highly of you. You have the instincts of a true warrior."

"Thank you," Booth said, taking the offered hand and pulling himself up. "That means a lot, coming from you."

"Tell me," Bra'tac asked after Booth was standing up, "have you been practicing?"

"Yes," Booth answered, "the general and I try to get together at least twice a week to practice."

"I thought I'd recognized some of those moves as the type O'Neill favors," Bra'tac commented.

"The general is quite good at this, isn't he?" Booth asked with a nod at where Jack was sparring with Teal'c; the moves both men were making were so smooth that they looked as if they were engaged in a well rehearsed dance.

"Yes," Bra'tac agreed. "He is; he has come a long way in the last ten years."

"Ten years?" Booth asked without looking away from the two fighting men. "Is that how long it takes to become that good?"

"If you have the right instincts," Bra'tac answered. "Some of our warriors practice most of their lives and yet they never acquire those instincts." He paused for a minute as he turned to observe the other dueling pair. "There's someone else that seems to have the right instincts," he said, indicating Parker with a wave of his hand.

"You think so?" Booth asked, looking proudly at where his son was sparring with Rya'c with Ishta calling out advice.

"Yes, I do," was Bra'tac's simple answer.

"I've thought about enrolling him in some martial arts classes," Booth told him, "but I haven't gotten around to it yet. Plus," he added with a slight grimace, "his mother is not completely sold on the idea, yet."

"It has been my experience," Bra'tac replied, "that even the most rational of mothers can become . . . unreasonable when it comes to the safety of their offspring."

"That is true," Booth answered, thinking of how strongly Brennan had reacted to the thought of Parker practicing with the Jaffa and Parker wasn't even her biological son.

"Still," Bra'tac said, "practicing martial arts can be a worthwhile activity for an active youngster. Especially one that has the instincts of a warrior," he added as they watched Parker successfully repeat what Rya'c and Ishta were teaching him. "If he doesn't have healthy outlets for those impulses, he will go look for outlets that are not healthy."

"You're right," Booth agreed. "I'll have another talk with Rebecca and look into signing him up for some lessons." He paused for a moment before adding, "I'm only sorry you guys live so far away. It would be very nice if he could learn from you guys."

"It would be hard for Teal'c, Rya'c or myself to train him," Bra'tac acknowledged. "However, O'Neill lives in this city; I'm sure he'd be happy to train him."

"You think General O'Neill could train Parker?" Booth asked, surprised.

"I believe so, yes," Bra'tac answered. "He's practiced with Teal'c for over ten years; he's mastered the basics and most of the advanced moves – I believe he'd be more than an adequate teacher."

"That's high praise," Booth said, grinning. He knew enough about the Jaffa to know that that was high praise indeed. "But the general is a busy man, I wouldn't want to impose."

"I do not think you will be imposing," Bra'tac said, thoughtfully. "I think O'Neill would very much enjoy teaching your son to spar; but, you will not know unless you ask."

"Unless you ask who what?" Jack asked as he and Teal'c walked up to where Booth and Bra'tac were standing.

"Agent Booth would like his son to continue learning how to spar like a Jaffa," Bra'tac explained. "And since neither Rya'c or I live . . . close by and Teal'c lives in Colorado, it would seem that you are the only one that could teach him."

"Do you think I could?" Jack asked, surprised. "That I know it well enough to teach it?"

"You have been practicing it for well over a decade," Bra'tac answered. "You should make an adequate teacher."

"Adequate?" Jack repeated, "Thanks old man, that's just what I wanted to hear," he grumbled.

"You will be a very adequate teacher, O'Neill," Teal'c told him in a reassuring tone and only those that really knew him would have noticed the glimmer in his eyes.

"You too, T?" he asked, frowning at the taller man, who in turn, almost smiled.

"General," Booth said, after swallowing a laugh, "I know you're a busy man and I wouldn't want to impose on . . ."

"Booth," Jack interrupted him. "I think you know me well enough by now to know that I rarely let myself be imposed on. It could be fun to work with Parker; I'm sure we could find some times that work for both of us."

"Of course, sir," Booth nodded. "I would appreciate any time you could spare."

"It's not a problem," Jack said, waving the thanks off. "Like I said, it should be a lot of fun."

"Thank you," Booth told him, "I'm sure Parker will really enjoy it too." Jack nodded while Teal'c looked thoughtful.

"This would also serve as practice for when O'Neill and Colonel Carter have their own children," Teal'c said seriously and, while Jack sputtered, Bra'tac put in his two cents.

"Indeed," the Jaffa master said. "I was most surprised to hear that even after a year of matrimony they had not produced offspring yet."

"You've got to be kidding!" Jack was finally able to say. "Don't I have enough with Thor always on my back about when we're finally going to reproduce? Do I have to get it from you two too?!"

This time, Booth couldn't stop the chuckle and he shook his head, as he went to answer his phone, while Jack kept grumbling at the not quite grinning Jaffa.

"Bones," he said, grinning, "missing me already?" His grin faded as he heard what she had to say. "Alright, I'm on my way. Yes," he added after a pause, "I'll bring them with me."

"Problem?" Jack asked, frowning at the change in the younger man.

"Yes," Booth answered. "I need to go to the lab and you and SG1 should come along."

"Alright," Jack nodded, understanding from the look in Booth's eyes that whatever it was, it was important and that questions should come later. "I'll call Sam and have her and Vala meet us there," he said, reaching down to pick up his cell phone. Vala and Cassie had dragged Sam, Janet and Kar'yn into a shopping expedition for the upcoming baby. Sam hadn't really wanted to go but since she was the only one that knew DC, she hadn't had much choice. Janet hadn't put up much of a fuss but Ishta, however, had flat out refused to go and had instead joined the men at Hodgins' gym.

"Have her bring Janet too," Booth told him, and Jack nodded, after one last look at Booth's eyes. After Jack turned around to make the phone call, Booth turned to look at Parker with a slight frown, which Bra'tac notice.

"You do not need to worry about your youngster, Agent Booth," he told Booth, clapping him on the shoulder. "Ishta, Rya'c and I would be happy to look after him while you go take care of your business."

"I wouldn't want to impose," Booth said as Jack flipped his phone closed.

"Ok, she's putting Cassie and Kar'yn in a cab and meeting us there," Jack reported, looking back at Booth.

"Good," Booth nodded. "Bones was going to get in touch with Daniel and Jonas," the two scientists had gone to the lab with the squints to explore the artifacts there. "They'll meet us there too." He then turned to Bra'tac and asked, "Are you sure leaving Parker here wouldn't be too much trouble?"

"Of course," Bra'tac answered. "You heard O'Neill, young Cassandra and Kar'yn are on their way back. I am sure, between the five of us, we can take care of young Parker."

"Thank you," Booth told him, sincerely. "Let me just say good bye to Parker," he told Jack and when the general nodded, he walked towards Parker, who had stopped practicing and was looking at his dad.

"Hey, buddy," Booth said, kneeling down next to Parker, "I have to meet Bones for a little bit, ok?"

"Do I have to leave too, daddy?" Parker asked.

"Nope," Booth shook his head. "You're staying here with Rya'c, Ishta and Master Bra'tac. Cassie and Kar'yn are on their way too. Is that ok with you?"

"Yeah," Parker answered, nodding his head vigorously. "That's ok; we can keep playing, can't we?" he asked Rya'c who nodded his agreement.

"Ok, then," Booth nodded as he stood up again. "I have to go now; you be a good boy and listen to Master Bra'tac, ok?"

"Yes, daddy," Parker nodded and after giving him a hug, Booth joined Jack and Teal'c and left for the lab.

Half an hour later, they were all assembled at the lab and Brennan was telling them what they'd discovered.

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, breaking the moment of silence that had fallen over them at the news.

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "We've double and triple checked and we compared the results with those we got six months ago – not that we could have forgotten them. But that's why I asked for Janet to come, so that she could give her opinion."

"Doc?" Jack asked, looking at Janet.

"I'm afraid she's right, sir," Janet said, looking up from the microscope, "he was definitely a clone." That pronouncement brought on another taut silence to the room.

"Crap!" Jack once again broke the silence. "I thought we'd accounted for everyone that had gone off world," he said, looking at Sam.

"We have," Sam nodded. "He must not have come through the Gate," she mused out loud, frowning at the remains.

"Do we know if he's military?" Vala asked, leaning closer to Daniel.

"I don't think so," Brennan answered, shaking her head. "That was the first search I ran but there's been no hits. We've also ran the dental records through the civilian databases but there hasn't been any hits there either."

"But weren't the teeth in the last clone altered?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "That's why Angela is finishing reconstructing his face and running it through the database. Hopefully, that'll let us know who he is."

"Meanwhile," Jack said, as he leaned back against a table, "do we know anything about him?"

"Yes," Brennan answered. "He was a Caucasian male, mid to late thirties, athletic, had never had a broken bone and died from the impact of the car crash." She paused and looked at Zack, who took up the telling.

"And he'd been on Earth between three and six months, no longer," he said.

"Are you sure?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Zack nodded. "I only have the preliminary results back, but given the amount of chemicals and minerals we found, he couldn't have been on Earth more than six months; I think three months is more likely given the concentration of minerals and chemicals that are not found here on Earth."

"Is there any chance he came from the same lab SG1 destroyed?" Jack asked, but he didn't sound hopeful.

"I don't think so," Hodgins answered. "We have to double check with those results," given the sensitive nature of them, they were not available without a security clearance that the squints did not have, "and now that you guys are here, you can get them for us, but offhand I can tell you that I see at least one mineral that was not present on that planet and that at least two that _were_ are missing."

"We always suspected that wasn't his only lab," Sam murmured.

"How close are you in breaking the encryption on his computer?" Booth asked Sam, who shook her head with a grimace.

"Close," was the answer, "But not there quite yet." Booth nodded, it would have helped to have access to that information but it had been a long shot.

"If he's not military," Vala began, "and he didn't come through the Gate, how did he get here? Better question," she added when no one answered the first, "who was he that Ba'al went to the trouble to clone him?"

"We don't know that he didn't come through the Gate," Brennan corrected. "We haven't had any hits but that doesn't mean anything – not when we're dealing with a clone."

"Bones's right," Booth said. "The fact is we won't know anything until we find out who this guy was," he added, nodding at the remains. "Let's not borrow trouble until then."

Brennan nodded, pleased that for once he wasn't jumping to conclusions. Before anyone could say anything, Angela walked up the stairs to the platform, waving a piece of paper.

"I have a match but you're not going to like it," Angela said, coming to a stop next to Hodgins.

"Who is he?" Jack asked, holding his hand out for the print out. Angela looked over at Brennan before handing over the papers.

"His name was Charles Blaine," Angela said and Jack looked up sharply at the name.

"Charles Blaine?" he repeated, as he looked down for confirmation. "But he was Senator Tatem's Chief of Staff."

"Told you, you wouldn't like it," Angela said with a nod.

"He's never been through the Gate," Sam said, sounding surprised. "Senator Tatem has never even been to the mountain."

"Well," Mitchell said, after a low whistle. "This makes it a whole new ball game, doesn't it?"

"This takes it to a whole new crap level," Hodgins corrected and for once he didn't have any conspiracy theories to share with everyone else.

"It also means that . . ." Jack began looking at Booth.

"That," Booth continued, "the case of the missing congressional aides has just become a matter of national security and now falls under your jurisdiction." Jack nodded grimly as Booth added, "it seems your gut feeling was right."

"Yeah," Jack replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is one time I wouldn't have minded being wrong."

Booth nodded but Brennan held up a hand and asked what half the people in the room wanted to know, "Wait a minute. How does the clone being Senator's Tatem's Chief of Staff make the congressional aids case a matter of national security and under the general's jurisdiction?"

"Unless you mean that Blaine was also abducted and missing?" Janet suggested. "Was he missing?" she asked, looking at Angela and Jack, who shook their heads.

"But that wouldn't work," Camille objected. "I mean," she added when they all turned to look at her, "it could work if it was just one person; but for more than three congressional aides to go missing in a three month period and then just suddenly reappear with no explanation? That would rise more than a few eyebrows," she concluded, shaking her head.

"She's right," Booth agreed. "That would be too suspicious."

"Then why did you say the cases are related?" Brennan asked, frowning thoughtfully at Booth.

"Well," Booth said, shifting to lean against the table behind him and crossing his arms, "think about it. What is the one thing that every disappearance guarantees?" He asked.

"That the FBI looks for them?" Brennan asked, knowing that wasn't what Booth meant but not knowing what he was getting at.

"No," Booth shook his head, "well, yes, but that's not what I mean. I think we've been looking at this the wrong way," he explained, moving one hand in emphasis. "We've been asking what do all the victims have in common; but that hasn't gotten us anywhere because aside from working for Congress, they have _nothing_ in common – not all of them, anyway."

"Right," Jack agreed. "They are all very different individuals."

"Exactly," Booth nodded. "Instead of asking what they have in common, we should have been asking who benefits from their disappearance. It's one of the first questions we ask whenever someone's gone missing; but since there wasn't one person they all knew, we dropped it and concentrated instead on finding a common link. But there isn't one – aside from the fact that they all work for Congressional leaders. So, let's go back to square one and ask: who benefits from the disappearances?"

"A spouse?" Mitchell suggested. "Maybe for the insurance? But that wouldn't work for all of them, would it?"

"No," Booth shook his head.

"If all they have in common is where they work," Brennan started to reason it out, "then we have to concentrate on who would benefit from their disappearances in the work place."

"Exactly," Jack nodded.

"So, what happens," Booth asked, "when someone fails to show up for work for more than a few days and no one knows if they'll come back?"

"You have to get a replacement," Janet answered and her eyes widened as she finally understood the significance.

"Precisely," Booth said, nodding in emphasis. "Every one of those positions has already been filled."

"I must be tired from last night," Angela said, frowning, "because I don't see the connection."

"If Ba'al," Jack explained, "has been able to clone civilians that work for Congressional leaders, then he could have arranged it so that his clones were the ones that got the promotion when those aids went missing – remember, they all had very high positions in their respective offices."

"But," Brennan said, frowning as she tried to follow the general's logic, "why not just directly replace the current chiefs of staff or personal aids or whoever with a clone? Why this whole elaborate ruse of aids gone missing?" always a straight shooter, Brennan couldn't understand why someone would not take the most direct approach to something.

"He's probably done that too," Booth answered.

"Yes," Jack agreed, nodding to the remains of the clone. "I'm sure he has but that would only work a few times. I mean how many people can he replace with clones and have no one find out? Some of them have families and close friends who would sooner or later notice a difference."

"If what he wants to do is place his people at key positions within our government," Booth added, only to be interrupted by Sam.

"And that's exactly what he wants," she said.

"Then," Booth continued, "He needs more than one way to put them there. He can't rely on only one method, no matter how successful, because sooner or later someone would catch on."

"But," Hodgins added with a glimmer in his eye, "if he, instead, used different ways a small number of times, it'd be that much more difficult for anyone to realize what was going on. Plus, there's the added fact that by having people gone missing, he creates chaos in those offices and makes any mistake made easier to cover."

"Exactly," Jack said again.

"Ingenious," Hodgins said, with a small smile. At Booth's and Jack's glare, he hastened to add, "diabolical, of course – but ingenious."

"If he's replacing people working for Congress . . .," Janet said, wide eyed. "We have no way of tracking that," she finished, shaking her head.

"No," Sam agreed. "If he's doing that, it means that he's not taking people that have gone through the Gate. After all, we know everyone that's ever gone through the Gate and we can account for everyone in a relatively easy manner – but if he's just taking them from the city," she trailed off, also shaking her head.

"How many people work for Congress?" Vala wanted to know.

"Well," Daniel began, pushing his glasses up his nose, "there are 435 members of the House and 100 Senators – 535 all together."

"That doesn't include," Jonas added, "the hundreds of people that work for them."

"They probably add up to the thousands," Camille added.

"And that doesn't include the cabinet members and their departments," Angela put in.

"Or the pentagon and all the people that work there," Mitchell added.

"How the heck are we supposed to track that many people?" Vala wondered out loud what everyone seemed to be thinking.

"Hold on," Jack said, holding up a hand, "let's not overreact here, people. I don't think we have to worry about everyone that works for Congress. Ba'al would only want to have control over those close to the people in power."

"Yes," Booth nodded. "For the same reason, I think we can eliminate, at least for the time being, the personnel of the different departments. I don't know Ba'al as well as you guys do, but it seems to me that he'd only want to control people who'd keep being powerful. The executive branch changes hands ever four, at most, eight years, while members of Congress stay in power for far longer – some keep their office for years on end. It seems to me that he'd want to consolidate his power there before he moved to other branches of government."

"Yes," Jack agreed. "That sounds what Ba'al would do."

"But that still leaves us more than a thousand people as potential victims/clones," Daniel pointed out.

"How are we ever going to track them?" Vala asked, grimacing.

"We can't very well," Janet added, "ask every one of them to come for a test, can we?"

"Not if we want to keep what we know about this a secret," Booth answered.

"Well," Brennan suggested, "we could at least interview the replacements to the missing aids, couldn't we?"

"No," Jack shook his head, "not if we don't want to let Ba'al know that we are onto him. If we do, we might be able to stop whatever he's doing but we wouldn't catch him – and I want him caught," he finished firmly and for the first time Brennan saw something of the legend Booth had told her about.

"Then," Angela said, "how are we going to catch him?"

"I don't know," Jack answered, his face was grim and his eyes looked hard as he slowly looked around the room. "But we better find a way and find it fast; I'm sick and tired of the fact that the only leads we've gotten in this case have come about because the clones are either incompetent or clumsy. If it hadn't been for accidents or mistakes on their part, we wouldn't even know about it. Ba'al has been two steps ahead of us all this time and it's about time we change that."


	10. Chapter 10

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **They're not mine; I'm just borrowing them for a little bit to have some fun.

**A/N: **Here's the next chapter. I'm sorry it took a bit longer than planned but RL got hectic plus I've been trying to finish my SG1 fics. Anyway, I'm still advancing the plot in this chapter, though I do have a couple of nice character moments. Just so you know, I'll be moving the plot along for the next few chapter so the fluff and smut will more than likely be on hold for a while. Though, I will, as always, try to incorporate a few nice moments here and there. I want to thank Pup for all her work and everyone that took the time to read and review last chapter. I really appreciate each and every review. Please, let me know what you think of this chapter. I do hope that you're still enjoying this little story.

**Chapter 10**

Jack's solemn declaration brought silence to the room before SG1 and Booth nodded while Brennan and the squints looked at each other. The vehemence behind the sentiment puzzled the squints as they had no idea of Jack's history with Ba'al.

"So," Angela broke the silence a few moments later, "what do we do?"

"Is there any way to scan for the DNA using the Daedalus sensors?" Jonas asked, looking at Sam and Janet. Janet shrugged and looked at Sam.

"I don't think so," Sam said, frowning thoughtfully. "The DNA marker that differentiates a clone is so small that I don't think the Daedalus' sensors are sensitive enough to pick them up – even if it was in orbit at the moment." She then got an intrigued look on her face and titled her head as she looked at Jack, "Is Thor still around?" she asked him.

"Yes," Jack answered. "He said that there was an anomaly close by that he wanted to check out and that he'd be around for a few days. Why? What do you have in mind?"

"Well," she answered slowly, "the sensors in his ship are much more sensitive than what the Daedalus has. I think, with Thor's help, I could modify them to detect the DNA marker from orbit."

"That sounds good," Jack nodded. "How long will it take?"

"To recalibrate the sensors?" she asked in clarification. "I'm not sure. What we're looking for is a very specific and hard to find marker. The recalibrations will involve complicated and sensitive calculations; it'd probably take at least a couple of days. To actually scan everyone that needs to be scanned," she added, "well, that'd probably take another few days. They won't be surface scans but rather deep and intricate scans of more than 500 people. It'll take a few days at least," she repeated and Jack frowned at the estimate but nodded nonetheless.

"That sounds good," Booth commented. "But meanwhile, we should try old fashioned investigative leg work."

"How do we do that?" Mitchell asked Booth.

"Well, since we all agree that Ba'al would have focused on Congress," Booth explained, "we need to get a current list of the members of Congress and their staff. Then we figure out who's been promoted or hired to the top spots in the last what? Six months?" he asked, looking at Jack.

"I think a year," Jack answered, "Just to be on the safe side."

"In the last year," Booth continued, nodding at Jack. "And we investigate the circumstances surrounding each promotion and/or hiring; see if we find anything suspicious."

"That would work for those people that were replaced by clones of someone else," Daniel pointed out, "but what about for those that were replaced by clones of themselves? Those cases wouldn't show up on that search."

"That's right," Booth nodded. "That's why we also need to study the voting history and the policy position of every member of Congress and investigate any unexpected or unexplained policy position change in the last year."

"That's," Mitchell began, shaking his head, "a lot of leg work."

"Yes," Booth agreed, "but it's the only way we can make sure that we not only find every clone but also what they've done. The sensor will work great when it comes to finding them but we need to do more than that. We need to know what they've done and then maybe we could figure out what it is that he's trying to do."

"Booth's right," Jack said. "We need to find everything we can about what he's been up to. The more we find out, the better our chance of catching him before he disappears again."

"Ok," Mitchell conceded. "So, how do we start?"

"Well," Jack began, "first I need to brief the President and the Joint Chiefs."

"Uh," Angela interrupted. "I don't mean to tell you guys how to do your jobs," she said, "but shouldn't we make sure that the President and the Joint Chiefs are really them before we go telling them we know anything?"

"I don't think Ba'al would have replaced them," Jack argued. "They're too visible and well known, any radical change in their behavior would raise red flags all over the place. But," he added, thoughtfully, "You do have a point. Janet," he said, turning to look at the petite doctor, "is there any way to make sure they're the originals?"

"Other than a complete physical check up?" Janet said, as she started to shake her head, "No, there's not. And we'd have to give them an explanation as to why we need them to have such a detailed exam."

"Which would blow away any chance we'd have of keeping this secret," Vala put in.

"Even if they turned out to be the real thing," Daniel continued the thought, "the fact that they had to take those tests might very well alert Ba'al that we're onto him."

"Yeah," Jack granted, "there's that. Sam," he told his wife, "is there any way that the sensors will be ready sooner?"

"No," Sam shook her head. "At least not those aboard Thor's ship," she added slowly. "I might be able to reconfigure a hand held scanner faster. Since the hand held scanner will be much closer to the target, it won't have as much data to sort and the recalibration would probably be done much faster."

"Good," Jack nodded. "Do you think Thor could also help you with the decryption of Ba'al's database? Getting into that would probably answer a lot of questions."

"Sure," Sam answered. "I'm sure he probably knows a few tricks that would come in handy. I'll ask him."

"Good," Jack repeated, straightening from his slouched position against the table. "Ok, so this is what we're going to do," he told them, slowly looking around the room. "Carter, you and Vala contact Thor and start working on those projects." Ignoring the surprised looks of the squints at his use of 'Carter' when referring to his wife, Jack continued giving orders.

"Booth," he said, turning to look at the FBI agent, "you're back on active duty as of now. I'll contact your supervisor at the FBI and arrange it; until this situation is resolved you're assigned to SG1 and under my direct command."

"Yes, sir," Booth replied, nodding sharply and noting the uneasy look that fleetingly crossed Brennan's face at that pronouncement, before she schooled it back into her usual mask. He made a mental note to talk with her later to make sure she was okay with him going back to active duty for this investigation. Not that there was anything else he could do – when a General gave a direct order, you followed it.

"Also," Jack added, "since this investigation seems to be right up your alley, I'd like you to head it." He then turned to Mitchell and told him, "with that broken leg, you won't be able to do any field work and Booth's expertise will probably be needed." Jack was not in the habit of explaining himself but Mitchell _was_ SG1's leader and deserved some explanation as to why someone else would lead the investigation.

"I understand, sir," Mitchell said, sincerely. As he'd said a few months ago, SG1 was good but they had next to no experience when it came to criminal investigations and it only made sense to use Booth's talents.

"Since he won't be able to go into the field," Booth said, "he could be in charge of the research part of things. Like he said, there's a lot of information and documents that we'll need to go through." Mitchell grimace briefly at the suggestion, staying indoors to go through a bunch of political documents wasn't his idea of fun, before nodding. It was something that needed to be done and it would be better than being excluded from the investigation altogether.

"Do any other scientists use this lab?" Jack asked Brennan and Camille.

"Yes," Brennan answered while Camille nodded.

"Will it be possible to close it to anyone but your team and SG1 for the duration of this investigation?"

"I . . ." Camille started to answer, as she looked at Brennan before looking back at Jack. The question had taken both doctors by surprise. "There are a lot of sensitive research projects going on that would be lost if they were to be stopped."

"Sir," Booth said before Jack could respond, "What are you thinking?"

"That we could use the lab as a sort of headquarters," Jack answered. "If we use Pentagon or FBI facilities everyone would know about it. But the lab is neutral territory and no one would know any better."

"That's a good idea," Booth said. "The lab is not part of any law enforcement agency or government facility. No one would have any idea of what we were doing. But," he added, noticing Brennan and Camille's worried expressions, "we don't need the whole lab for it. We could just use one of the smaller lab rooms."

"Ok," Jack agreed. "Could you arrange it?" He asked Camille.

"I could talk to the board," she answered. "I'm not sure whether they'd go for it, though."

"If you have any problems," Jack told her, "tell them the Pentagon would appreciate their help. If they still give you trouble, call me and I'll talk to them." Camille nodded, as she wondered whether there was anyone that would dare deny that man anything he wanted.

"Now that that's settled," Jack said, turning back to Janet. "Janet, could you stay for a few days?" he asked. "Or are you needed back at the SGC?"

"I could stay," she answered. "There are a couple of SG teams due back in the next few days but my staff can take care of it. If something does come up, I can be there minutes after they get in contact with me."

"Then," Jack told her, "You can consult with Carter and Vala if they need any information for the sensors. Then you can help Mitchell with all the research."

"Of course, sir," Janet nodded.

"And you can be on hand," Jack added, "to assist Drs. Soroyan and Brennan if they have any questions."

"Questions?" Camille repeated.

"Why would we have any questions she could answer?" Brennan asked, despite Booth's best efforts to quiet her.

"Because this," Jack answered, waving at the remains, "is the third body that we have come across in this case - granted, they've all been by accident, but the possibility still remains that there could be more bodies out there."

"You know, he's right," Booth pointed out. "We still don't know what happened to the real Charles Blaine or to those congressional aides that have gone missing. Given what we know of Ba'al, they've more than likely been killed. We need to check out all the unidentified dead bodies for the past year in the greater Metropolitan area."

"But hasn't the FBI done that already?" Brennan asked, with a frown.

"Of course," Booth answered, "but we only did a standard search – probably matched the dental records and when we didn't get a hit, we dropped that line of inquiry. The FBI is not equipped to recognize or deal with the kind of technology that makes clones," there was a sentence he never thought he'd say. "And we know that they have the technology to alter dental records, so if they didn't want those bodies identified, they probably haven't been identified. But they have to be somewhere and we need to find them."

"Exactly," Jack said. "Since alien medical technology was more than likely used and no one knows more about that than Janet, I think she could really help you when you try to identify all those remains."

"Ok," Brennan reluctantly gave in. "That makes sense."

"Glad you agree," Jack said, more than a little sarcastically. "Daniel, Jonas," he added, looking at the two men that had been mostly quiet so far, "there's going to be a lot of information that we'll have to go through and most of it will be political mumbo jumbo. It'd probably help if we had it sorted into some sort of order and who better than you two to take care of that little chore?"

"Sure," Daniel said with a nod.

"No problem," Jonas said, smiling. "Happy to help; actually, it should be very interesting – I've been studying your government structure and politics and they're . . ." he trailed off at Jack's glare and instead said, "I'll save it for the briefing."

"Good idea," Jack said with a raised eyebrow. "T," he said a few seconds later, looking at the big Jaffa, "I think you should accompany Booth when he's out in the field."

"As you wish, O'Neill," Teal'c inclined his head in agreement but Brennan was not happy with the suggestion.

"Wait a minute," she said, sounding irritated and not at all conciliatory. Booth groaned silently as he knew that tone of voice and what it meant – that she was ready to dig in and be difficult. "I'm Booth's partner; if anyone's going to go with him, it's me."

"Dr. Brennan," Jack began, slowly as if he was talking to a difficult child. "We've already been through this once before."

"Yes," Brennan nodded impatiently. "And I agreed that I would have been a distraction and a liability that time. That was a military operation and I didn't have the training to join in; not to mention the fact that it took place off world. I would have probably made things worse. But this time it's different. This is a criminal investigation – this is what we do and it's right in our yard."

"Backyard, Bones," Booth corrected quietly. "It's backyard." Brennan shrugged while Jack just shook his head at her.

"There's no difference," he contradicted. "This is still a military operation."

"Because it's conducted by the military?" Brennan asked.

"That is the definition of a military operation," Jack drawled, amused. Dr. Brennan could be annoying but there was no denying that she could also be entertaining. Booth just shook his head and silently prayed for patience and hoped the general would not lose his legendary temper.

"This is primarily a criminal investigation, regardless of who's running it," Brennan insisted. "We have a body, a suspect and motive. We just need to put it all together and find out what he's up to. That's what Booth and I _do_. And we're good at it. Booth," she said suddenly, turning to look at Booth with expectant eyes, "tell him." She ordered the grimacing FBI agent.

"Well, sir," Booth said with a resigned sigh, "she's right. This _is_ what we do."

"Yes, and we're very good at it," she reiterated with emphasis. "And one of the reasons we're so good is because we work every aspect of the case together. I help a lot out in the field." She nodded for emphasis and turned to once again look at Booth expectantly. Jack also turned to look at Jack with his eyebrow raised in expectation.

"She's right," Booth said again and this time he didn't bother to sigh. "We are good because our talents compliment each other; we each catch things the other misses and have gotten pretty good at helping each other work through the problems," Booth explained and Jack nodded, as SG1 worked much the same way. "This is not like last time and the fact of the matter is, she'll be an asset out in the field." Jack studied Booth for a moment while Brennan tried her best to contain her smug smile. Finally, Jack turned to Brennan.

"Ok," he gave in. "You can accompany Booth in the field," when she started to grin in triumph, he added, "as long as you understand from the start that there might be a time when you won't be allowed to go with him."

Brennan bristled at the word 'allowed' but understood from Jack's implacable gaze that that would be the best she got. As she nodded her understanding, she reflected that there were times when Booth didn't let her go with him either so that restriction wasn't all that different from how they did things.

"Anything else?" Jack asked, looking around the room to see if anyone had any other suggestions. When no one said anything, he nodded and pushed himself away from the table he'd been leaning against, "Ok, then, if that's it, I suggest we call it a day," at the protest of the squints and half of SG1, he put up his hand for quiet. "Hold on a minute; I know you have a lot to do but I also know that this is going to be a long investigation and that, since it's Sunday afternoon, there's not much that can be accomplished today. I think that we should all go home, have a relaxing evening, a restful night and be ready to start working early tomorrow morning."

"He's right," Booth said. "There's going to be plenty to do and for quite a long time, it sounds like. We should take the opportunity to rest when we have it. And," he added, looking back at Brennan who did not look like she was ready to listen to reason, "I have Parker until tomorrow morning; I'd like to spend the rest of the day with him because who knows when I'll be able to get him for a whole weekend again."

Brennan opened her mouth to protest but closed it without saying anything because she too would like to spend some time with Parker before things got too crazy. Instead, she just nodded and turned to start putting her things away.

"You can contact Thor from the house," Jack was telling Sam, who apparently wasn't too keen on waiting to start the investigation either. "That's where the stone is anyway."

"Thor?" Hodgins asked Vala, who was sitting close to him, after Sam nodded at Jack's suggestion. "I'm guessing he's an alien?"

"Yep," Vala nodded, grinning. "He's an Asgard; and a good friend of Jack and Sam."

"Asgard," Hodgins repeated. "Aren't those the little grey men?" he asked, his interest piqued at the mention of aliens and spaceships.

"Yep, they're the little grey men," Vala said, her ponytail bouncing all over the place.

"Cool," Hodgins said, grinning from ear to ear. "And I'm assuming he's on a spaceship in orbit?" At Vala's nod, he asked, looking as excited as a kid about to get an all you can eat pass to a candy store, "Any chance I could get a tour of the ship?"

"I don't see why not," Vala answered, laughing, "But probably not until this is resolved."

"I understand," Hodgins nodded eagerly. "I can wait, that's not a problem."

"He's already waited his whole life," Angela commented, grinning. "What are a few more weeks?"

Before Vala could respond, Sam called out, "Vala, I'm going to see Thor to tell him what we need. You want to come?"

"Yes, I'll be right there," she called back before turning to ask Daniel, "You coming with us?"

"Are you staying or leaving right now?" He asked Hodgins before answering Vala's questions.

"I have to put all the equipment away," Hodgins answered, shrugging. "And close down the lab. I'll probably be another hour." Daniel nodded and turned to Vala.

"I'm staying," he finally answered her. "There are still a few other artifacts I'd like to study. I'll catch a ride with Hodgins when he's done. If that's ok with you?" he asked, looking at the entomologist who just nodded.

"Ok, then," Vala said, leaning in for a kiss. "I'll see you later." With that, she turned and jogged to where Sam was waiting with Jack, Janet and Teal'c. After a brief chat, the quintet left.

After a brief 'see you later,' Daniel and Jonas also left to go back to the artifacts.

"I was thinking," Jonas said as they moved away, "we should probably start by dividing the members into the two main parties and from there we should categorize them from extra conservative to extra liberal."

"Sounds good," Daniel nodded, "don't forget, though, that there are some independents and some of their positions overlap traditional concepts of liberal and conservative. Take, for instance . . ." the voices trailed off as they moved away from the platform.

Camille shook her head at their interchange, even as her eyes tracked Jack's progress out of the lab.

"I wonder," she mused out loud as, with the departure of most of SG1 and Jack, the noise in the lab went back down to a hum, "if anyone ever says no to that man."

"To the general?" Mitchell, who had stayed behind because he was going home with Camille asked. "Not that many, I'd say" he answered with a grin. "At least not outside of his SG1. I guess the President and the Chiefs could theoretically tell him no, but I really don't think it happens often. For a man who's always claiming he's more an action than words man, he sure has a way with them," he finished thoughtfully.

"He sure does," Camille agreed before referring to his previous sentence. "But hold on, _his_ SG1? I thought it was all one SG1. That his SG1 is now yours?" though it was worded as a statement, it came out as a question.

"Well sure," Mitchell answered with a shrug, "it is the same people - mostly. But _they_ are the original SG1 and that is most definitely not my SG1. We're SG1, the sequel, I guess you could say." It was said matter of fact, and not at all bitterly, but Camille frowned, disturbed at the implication.

"And that doesn't bother you?" she asked, studying him intently. "You don't feel, oh, I don't know, like you're second choice?"

"I am second choice," he answered simply and without a hint of rancor in his voice. "I know that they would all prefer to still have Jack O'Neill as SG1's CO."

"And that doesn't bother you?" she asked again, incredulous and surprised because she had never detected any animosity from the other members of SG1 towards Mitchell.

"Heck no," he answered quickly, without having to think about it. "If I had the choice, I also would have loved to have served on SG1 when he was the CO. But that wasn't to be and we all understand that; I mean, it's not like they resent me or anything. And frankly, he added wistfully, "to be second choice to Jack O'Neill is an honor." Though he said it with up most sincerity, she didn't look convinced.

"Camille," he told her with a small grin, "you have to understand that the original SG1 is a legend – and General O'Neill was one before there was an SG1. To be considered to be even close to his league is one of the greatest honors in my career." He paused and his eyes got a faraway look as he remembered something in his past. "When my plane went down in Antarctica, I was injured very badly. For a while there they didn't know if I was going to make it and for an even longer time, there was no guarantee that I'd ever walk again. The only thing that kept me going, when all I wanted to do was give up, was the fact that General O'Neill had promised me my choice of assignments when I was fit for duty again. And since he'd been promoted, there was an opening at SG1. And I wanted it; hell, I don't think there was anyone in my squadron that didn't want that spot, but it'd been promised to me. If and when I was fit for duty, I would report to SG1. I didn't even care if I was the CO or not; as long as I was a member of the team, I was happy. You don't know how surprised and flattered I was when I learned that I'd be the CO or how disappointed I was when I found out no one from the original team was staying. They all had their reasons for leaving and they were valid. Still," he added, grinning and shaking his head, "you don't know everything I did to get them to come back. Finally, and through circumstances largely not of my making, they came back and a new SG1 was formed."

"You really wanted to be on SG1, huh?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Honey, you don't know what they've done, how many times they saved the planet or how much they sacrificed to do it. Those kinds of experiences tend to bond people together – make them tighter than most families. And no one that hasn't lived through them can understand or interfere with that bond. How can I resent that? Especially when I have the same bond with my team and the General's not a part of it? They're two different things but similar enough that is a not a problem. Do you understand?" he asked, when she looked a little confused.

"I think so," she answered slowly. "Kind of like the difference between the family you're born into and, the one you make when you grow up – different, but the same."

"Exactly," he nodded, before looking around. "So, how long before we can leave?"

"Give me half an hour to make sure everything's taken care of and we'll leave," she said and when he nodded, she walked away to do what she needed to do, thinking that a relationship with an Air Force officer was not easy – especially when he was a member of a top secret program. You were lucky if you knew what he was involved in half the time because he wasn't allowed to talk about it. Whatever he did, it was enough to give him nightmares, which you couldn't help him with because you couldn't understand them. For a second, she wondered if it was worth it but then she remembered his eyes when he smiled and how sweet and considerate he was and decided that he was more than worth it.

* * *

A few hours later, Booth, Brennan and Parker arrived at Booth's apartment. When they'd arrived at Hodgins' to pick up Parker, they found him having the time of his life playing in the spacious backyard with Rya'c, Bra'tac and Cassie. Cassie had organized a barbeque and had put Ishta in charge of the meat, while she played with Parker and Rya'c on the lawn. Kar'yn, who was very pregnant, sat close to Ishta and the two made battle with the unfamiliar machine, with occasional help from Cassie and Hodgins' household help.

Parker was having so much fun that Brennan and Booth decided to spend the afternoon at Hodgins' and joined the game. Both Booth men had a great time running around the backyard and by the time they arrived home, Parker was all but falling asleep. And yet, he'd had such a wonderful day that he couldn't stop talking about it.

"And did you see how Master Bra'tac took down Rya'c?" he asked as he skipped ahead of Booth and Brennan into the apartment. "And he's like 200 years old and Rya'c is not even 30 and still it took him less than five minutes to bring him down. Can you believe it?"

"Yes, buddy," Booth said, grinning. "We can 'cause we were there; we saw it."

"He's really good, isn't he Daddy?" Parker asked, grinning up at Booth, as he bounced on his heels.

"Yes, he is," Booth nodded. "That's why they call him Master," Booth explained.

"And he said that General Jack can teach me how to fight like them," he said, all excited. "Isn't that great, Bones? Wouldn't you like to know how to fight like they do?"

"Yes, I would, bud," Brennan answered, smiling down at him.

"And Master Bra'tac said that he and T would work with me whenever they were in town," he announced, as he dropped down on the sofa. "He said that General Jack was pretty good but that they would make sure he hadn't done any harm. Isn't that neat?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer before rushing into another question. "Daddy, I can take the lessons, right? Please, Daddy, I really want to take the lessons."

"We'll, see, buddy," Booth said. "I have to talk to your mom and I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best. Now," he said, rubbing his hands, "it's time for your bath. Go ahead, get everything ready, I'll be right there."

"He sure is excited," Booth said, looking after his son as he ran out of the room.

"Yes, he is," Brennan answered, as she started to clear the table, which they hadn't had time to clear that morning.

"Bones, are you ok?" Booth asked, as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" she answered, putting the dishes in the sink.

"Well, because you've been awfully quiet all day," he answered. "You want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," she insisted as she rinsed the dishes.

"Bones," he said slowly. "Talk to me.

"I . . ." she started to say, as she turned around and picked up a dishtowel to dry her hands but, before she could say anything else, Parker's voice came from the bathroom telling his dad he was ready for his bath. "Go," she said instead.

"But," he started to protest.

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head. "Go and see to Parker; this is not the time. We'll talk later," she promised when he opened his mouth to persist. After looking into her eyes for a few seconds, he nodded and went to take care of Parker.

Forty minutes later, Booth walked into the living room to find Brennan reading on the sofa.

"He's down?" she asked, putting down the journal she'd been reading.

"Yeah," Booth answered as he flopped down next to her. "Went out like a light."

"He's had a long day," she said, as she shifted on the sofa to face him.

"Yes, he has," he nodded. "So, you want to tell me what's up?"

"Nothing really," she shrugged. "It's just that . . . Did you have to accept going back to active duty so easily?"

"Accept?" he repeated, frowning. "Bones, there's no question of accepting when a general orders you. You just do what he tells you to."

"But do you have to sound so happy about it?" she groused.

"I'm not happy about it," he argued.

"Booth," she reprimanded him. "I might not be great at reading people but I can read _you_ and you're happy about it."

"I'm excited about it," he corrected. "But can you tell me you aren't?" he asked her. "I mean, this is a once in a lifetime case and we've caught it twice. I know how disappointed you were that we couldn't keep working on it six months ago – I was just as disappointed as you. So, can you tell me you're not excited about the prospect of finishing it this time?"

"Ok, ok," she agreed, nodding her head. "I am excited about it. It is an interesting case."

"See," Booth said, shifting on the couch and laying his arms along the back of the sofa. "We're both excited about it."

"Yes, but . . ." she trailed off as she started to play with the corner of a cushion.

"But what?" he prompted her. "Bones, what is it?"

"I see how you are when you're with them – with the General, Sam, Mitchell," she clarified when he looked lost. "We've been out with them enough times that I know how you excited you get whenever you start talking about their escapades. You get this gleam in your eyes whenever you hear them."

"Bones," he said, drawing out her name and letting his head fall down on the back of the couch. "I thought we already talked about this; I have no interest in joining the military permanently."

"I know," she agreed. "But that was six months ago."

"And what," he asked, "you think I'd changed my mind in the interim?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I mean you've heard all their stories now and they do sound exciting and . . ."

"Bones," he interrupted her tirade before it could really get started. "Nothing's changed. I'm happy with the way my life is right now."

"But I've seen your eyes when you're around them, Booth," she persisted. "You can't tell me you've never thought about it."

"Well, sure," he answered, easily. "But there's a world of difference between thinking and doing, Bones."

"But don't you ever wish," she insisted, "that you could join them? And don't," she said when he opened his mouth, "tell me that there is a world of difference between wishing and doing. Just tell me what you're feeling."

"What I'm feeling," he repeated. "Ok, fine, yes, there is a small part of me – the same part that led me to be an Army Ranger and to join the FBI, the part of me that likes the adrenaline rush of chasing criminals and of seeing action – yes, that part of me sometimes wishes I could join SG1. And maybe if my life was different, if I didn't have you or Parker and I wasn't completely satisfied with my life the way it is, maybe then I'd join them. But my life is not different, I do have you and Parker and I am completely and utterly satisfied with my life just the way it is. I have no wish to change it; Bones, you have to believe me, I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize what I have. I am _not_ going to rejoin the Army."

"Not even if a war breaks out and they need you?" she asked him.

"Come on, Bones," he said, with a hint of whine on his tone. "Let's not do hypothetical's, ok?"

"But what if that happens," she insisted. "What then?"

"Well," he answered, after a long sigh, "if that happens and they need me, I'd have to rejoin. I'd have to do anything I could to make the country or planet save for Parker and you and all the innocent people. That's who I am," he continued with a shrug. "And frankly, I don't think you'd love me half as much if I was any different."

"You're probably right," she reluctantly agreed after a few moments of consideration. With a sigh, she cuddled onto his side and said, "Sometimes I wish you weren't so noble."

"No, you don't," he contradicted, chuckling. "And don't think I won't remind you that you say I'm noble," he teased and she made a face up at him but before she could retort, the phone rang. Booth stretched his arm and picked up the handset. "Booth," he said. A few seconds later, he said, "yes, sir. We'll be there." He hung up and turned to look at Brennan. "That was the General; we're to meet everyone over at the lab tomorrow at 0900 hours."


	11. Chapter 11

**Aliens in the City **

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're still not mine. Just playing with them!

**A/N: **I am so sorry that it's taken so long to update. Between musie giving me a hard time with it and my computer problems I just wasn't able to get it out sooner. But, here it is and it's long as always. Plus, you get the visual you've all been waiting for!! I apologize for those that are waiting for some action, this is once again a convo chapter; I just feel that there were a few things I needed to establish before moving to the action. Ok, confession time, I suck at writing action so it might be possible that I'm avoiding getting there. I will get there, I promise and I'll try to make it exciting but before there are a couple of chapters before we get there. It's not just cause I have to psyche myself up to write it, though of course that is true, but there a few things I want to say before we get there besides, I just don't think the investigation would move that fast. Ok, as always, thanks to those that have reviewed, I think I managed to reply to everyone if I didnt, I'm sorry but know that your review meant a lot. Thanks also to Puppet for all her help betaing! Hope you enjoy!!

**Chapter 11**

"Booth, would you sit down?" Jack asked, shifting in his chair. "All this pacing is giving me a headache and making Carter dizzy," he groused. "And you really don't want to wear a hole in that rug, do you?"

"Sorry, sir," Booth said with a wry smile as he sat down in a chair across from Jack and Sam. "It's just not everyday that I wait to meet with the President, you know?"

"I thought you'd received a couple of medals from the President himself?" Sam, who had been fiddling with the hand held scanner, looked up to ask Booth.

"Yeah," Booth nodded, "but there's a difference between a five minute meeting in the rose garden to receive a medal and meeting him for a mission briefing."

"I supposed that's true," Sam granted before turning her attention back to the scanner.

Booth looked at how comfortable both Jack and Sam were while waiting to talk to the President of the United States and couldn't help but envy that ease a little. "I guess you've been here a few times, huh?" he asked them.

"A few times," Jack answered as he leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and laced his fingers over his stomach. "Hayes is a good man, you know. There's nothing to be worried about."

"Yes, sir," Booth nodded. He then turned to look at Sam and commented, "I was surprised at how easy it was for the guards to allow you to bring in the scanner. I'd have thought there'd be more strict security protocols. It is the White House after all."

"Yeah, well," Jack said without opening his eyes, "like you said, we've been here a few times and for most of them, Carter's brought some technology or other to show to the President. The guards are used to her and her gadgets; they know they're not dangerous."

Booth nodded and the group fell silent for a few moments until Sam looked up from the scanner and said, "I'd have thought that Temperance would have come with us today. She was so adamant about going with you into the field the other day."

"She still is," Booth responded with a small smile. "She insists on going with me to every interview or whenever I visit a crime scene but she considers things like this," he said with a small wave of his hand, "to be akin to paperwork. And she has no difficulty whatsoever leaving that up to me. Especially when she has remains she could be examining back at the lab."

"I can understand that," Jack commented, without opening his eyes. "Coming here can certainly be tedious."

"Jack," Sam protested while Booth did his best to wipe off the grin that threatened to come out at the general's irreverence, "coming to the White House is an honor not a punishment."

"It might have been an honor the first few times," he argued, keeping his eyes firmly closed and his posture relaxed, as if he was on the verge of falling asleep and yet Sam knew he'd be the first one to react if something were to happen. "But after about the 100th visit, it somehow looses its shine." Sam made a face at the response and turned to look at Booth, ignoring her husband's unusual opinions with the ease of long practice.

"Temperance has new remains to examine?" Sam asked Booth, curious. She had spent the past few days in Thor's ship, recalibrating the sensors; the last time she had seen the rest of the team had been three days ago when they'd had the first morning briefing. Since then, she'd gotten updates from Jack but she didn't remember anything about having found a new body.

"Yes," Booth nodded. "The search for unidentified bodies generated a few hits already; the first couple were being taken to the Jeffersonian this morning," he went on to explain and Sam nodded. But before she could say anything else, the President's secretary put down the phone and stood up.

"The President will see you now," she told them as she walked towards a door across from her desk and waited for them.

Since they were there on official military business, all three were wearing the dress uniforms of their respective branch of service. Sam and Jack looked striking, confident and, somehow, both relaxed and alert in their matching dress blues. Both wore an impressive array of ribbons and medals on their chests and though more than half of them were the same, Jack had a few that Sam didn't. Booth, who had his own impressive array of ribbons, didn't recognize a number of them and knew that they represented the specific times his superiors had saved the world from hostile aliens.

As Jack stood up, he placed his hat under his arm and shifted his briefcase before motioning for Sam to go ahead of him. For her part, Sam also placed her hat under her arm and secured her papers and scanner against her body as she walked towards the door the secretary held open.

Booth, as the least ranking officer, walked behind the couple. That morning had been the first time in almost six months that he'd worn his green dress uniform since for the last few days he'd preferred to wear the green BDU's the rest of SG1 wore while on duty. Brennan's reaction to seeing him dressed in the more formal uniform had been interesting – so interesting in fact that he'd almost been late arriving at the White House.

He still didn't understand what she found so fascinating about the sight of him wearing the uniform. But, as Brennan had told him, he wasn't a woman and couldn't appreciate how the width of his shoulders was accentuated by the jacket, or how nice his ass was displayed by the well fitting trousers, or how the tan beret brought attention to his eyes; he couldn't have understood how the sight of him wearing what was essentially a warrior's gear with the symbols recognizing his superior ability appealed to the primitive side of Brennan – how the sight that proved he was an alpha male brought out the alpha female in her.

With a minute shake of his head, he put those thoughts away and entered the Oval Office where President Hayes was greeting Jack and Sam like old friends.

"This is Major Booth," Jack introduced Booth as he joined the small group in the middle of the room.

"Major," Hayes said, offering his hand, "it's a pleasure."

"Mr. President," Booth said, shaking the hand of the most powerful man in the world, "it's an honor."

Hayes nodded before tilting his head to one side with a thoughtful expression. "Haven't we met before?" he asked Booth. "I seem to remember giving you a medal a few years ago – though I could have sworn you were a civilian; an FBI agent if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, sir," Booth nodded, surprised that a man that must have a million and one things on his mind, would remember something like that. "That was me; I was. . . am," not knowing how much he was allowed to say at the moment, Booth looked at Jack for guidance. Jack nodded and took over the explanation.

"Booth is an inactive Ranger," Jack told Hayes. "I've recalled him to active duty for the duration of the mission."

"Ah, yes, the mysterious mission," Hayes said as he sat down and motioned for the others to follow suit. "So, why don't you tell me all about it?"

"Carter?" Jack asked as they sat down, needing to make sure who he was talking to before going any further. She looked up from the scanner and nodded to indicate that the man in the room with them was indeed the original President Hayes. "And I take it that there are no bugs and that everyone outside are who they're supposed to be?"

"Yes, sir," Sam nodded and sat back on the couch with a satisfied air about her. Both Jack and Booth also relaxed. The chance that the President would have been replaced was a long shot but still, it was nice to be sure.

"Jack," Hayes asked, looking from one officer to the other with a small smile. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Well, sir," Jack began. "We have a problem." Jack was nothing if not a master of the understatement.

"Of course we do," Hayes nodded with the air of someone that had had the same conversation quite a few times before. "When don't we? What is it this time? A parasitic race bent on galactic domination?"

"No, sir," Jack shook his head with a small smile.

"That's right," Hayes said. "We kicked their collective asses, didn't we? Well, I hope it's not another half-ascended, wanna be God?" At Jack's denial, the President kept guessing, "bugs made out of metal? People from another dimension or an alternate reality that either want to take over or are bringing news of a devastating event? The timeline has been changed and we need to put it back where it should be? Oh, please tell me the Wraiths have not found a way to make it here from Pegasus!"

"No, sir," Jack said again. "It's none of the above." Booth was surprised about the relaxed, almost frivolous atmosphere of the meeting. Given the nature of the topic under discussion, he'd expected a more somber mood, but it seemed that the President shared General O'Neill's unconventional sense of humor – no wonder they got along so well.

"Oh, so it's something new," Hayes was saying. "Well, that's good; wouldn't want us to become too complacent."

"No, sir, we wouldn't," Jack agreed. "But this problem may be a bigger one than the ones you mentioned; it's certainly more insidious and presents a huge problem to our national security." At that pronouncement, the President's demeanor changed and became more serious.

Fifteen minutes later, all sense of frivolity had disappeared and the President was sitting back, rubbing his hands over his face as he tried to assimilate what Jack had just told him. He understood the severity of the situation without any prompting.

"I thought we'd finally taken care of Ba'al," he said, with a hint of question in his tone.

"So did we," Jack answered, shaking his head.

"Why can't that bastard have the common decency of staying dead?" Hayes asked in disgust.

"I don't know, sir," Jack shook his head. "He's about as bad as Apophis when it comes to that; but I guess it would be too much to ask a snake head for some common decency."

"Actually, sir," Sam intervened, "with all the clones and things, I think he might even be worse than Aphophis about coming back when you're sure you've killed him."

"You might be right, Carter," Jack said with a sigh. "He might just take the prize when it comes to dead guys coming back from hell."

"Well, at least SG1 still holds the record for over all come backs, right?" Hayes asked with something that closely resembled a smirk on his face.

"I'm sure we do at that," Sam answered with a grin which faded when she saw Jack's face. She and Hayes looked at each other and silently decided to change the subject and Booth wondered what the story behind that was.

"Ok," Hayes said, changing the subject, "so should I assume that whatever Colonel Carter used a few moments ago reassured you that I'm not a clone?" he asked them.

"Yes, sir," Jack nodded, minutely shaking his head to get rid of whatever memories the previous discussion had brought up.

"That's good," Hayes said. "I wouldn't want to not be me," as soon as he finished saying it, he frowned at the complete weirdness of the situation. "And everyone outside?"

"They're all originals too," Sam assured him and he nodded his head again, relieved. "So, what's the plan?" he asked Jack, who leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"As you saw," Jack started to explain, "Carter has already recalibrated a handheld sensor to determine who's a clone and who's not. She's also spent the last few days working with Thor to recalibrate the sensors on his ship so that we can scan Congress and the connected buildings from orbit."

"That sounds good," Hayes agreed.

"The Chiefs will be here in a few minutes," Jack continued, "once they get here, we'll scan them to make sure they're the real deal. Frankly, I'm not really anticipating any surprises there; like you, they're too high profile for any changes not to be noticed. I really don't think Ba'al would have taken that chance – at least not yet." He paused for a moment, only to continue when Hayes nodded, "we'll also have to scan all of their staff. I think it is far more likely that Ba'al will have to replace someone farther down in the chain of command. It just makes more sense to replace someone that has access to sensitive information but is responsible for it."

"Yes, it does," Hayes said, slowly, clearly thinking of something else. "But what happens after?" he asked, looking from Jack to Sam.

"What do you mean, sir?" Jack asked for clarification.

"Well," Hayes said as he stood up to get a glass of water, "it's all very well and good to make sure we're all ourselves right now, but what happens if one of us is replaced after you confirmed our identity? How would we know? For that matter, how would we know if one of you guys," he added, pointing at Jack and Sam, "were to be replaced? I don't think scanning us all over and over again will be very practical, do you?" Since it had taken them over a day to come up with that question, Booth was impressed by how fast the President was processing the information.

"No, of course not," Jack answered, shaking his head. "Carter here had the same thought and came up with a solution," he added and then motioned to Sam to explain.

"Well, sir," Sam began, "as you know that all SGC personnel have a tracer imbedded in their arms so that we can always know where they are;" she paused to see Hayes nod before continuing.

"Are you thinking of using them for this too?" Hayes asked and she shook her head.

"No, sir," she answered. "They're too easily detected and removed. In fact, Ba'al already knows we use them and one of the first things he'd do if he were to capture any of us would be to look for them and remove them."

"Couldn't you do something to make them less detectable?" Hayes wanted to know.

"I might be able to do something with the type of energy they emit – to make them less easily detectable," Sam admitted. "But that wouldn't change the fact that any physical scan of whoever is abducted would detect the tracer itself, since it would show up as a foreign object in the body. No, we need something that won't be detected at all."

"So, what did you come up with?" Hayes asked, grinning as he knew she already had the answer.

"This," Sam said, grinning as she held up a bunch of what looked like oversized band-aids. "These are made from a material that it's absorbed by skin as soon as it is applied to it. Since it then becomes part of the skin, there'll be nothing to detect. And the energy it'll be emitting will be thermal energy, the same kind of energy we all naturally emit. Only someone who knows where to look and how to look for it will be able to detect that energy signature; anyone else will just read normal thermal energy."

"Where did you get the material?" Hayes asked as he leaned forward to receive the patches.

"I adapted a material that Thor had available on his ship," Sam answered as she sat back from giving Hayes a few of the patches.

"How do you get it off?" Hayes asked as he turned it around on his hands.

"Well," Sam answered, shifting in her seat, "we can deactivate it so that it won't give off the energy."

"Are you saying there's no way to get it off after we get it on?" Hayes asked, and he didn't sound too thrilled with the idea. He then looked at Jack and said, "I can't believe you'd like that."

"I don't," Jack agreed, frowning. "I still don't like the fact that I had to keep the darn tracer. I thought once I was transferred to DC I'd be able to get rid of it," he added, grousing.

"Sir," Sam said, firmly, "you know that as the Head of Homeworld Security you need to be secure and we need to be sure you are where you're supposed to be."

"Christ, Carter!" Jack complained, "you make me sound like a baby that needs to be looked after by his mommy!!"

"You know that's not what I meant, sir," Sam argued, even as the President grinned in delight at the sight of one of his most senior generals complaining as a child. "Just as you know that the security concerns are real."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack nodded, sounding very put upon. Sam ignored her husband and turned to the president again.

"We're working on a lotion that would hopefully dissolve the material after it's been absorbed but we're still in the developing stage and frankly it's not one of our priorities right now."

"I understand," Hayes nodded. "But it's safe?"

"Yes, it is," Sam confirmed. "We tested it extensively and it is completely safe." Hayes nodded again and turned to Jack.

"Can I assume you'll be using it?" he asked Jack.

"Yes, sir," Jack answered with a frown. "In fact," he added, "Carter, Vala and I were implanted last night after the final tests came through."

"Will you be the one monitoring the patches' energy output?" Hayes asked Sam, who shook her head.

"Actually, sir, we believe that, given the circumstances, it's not prudent for anyone on the planet to have access to the monitoring data. We think it'll be much safer for all concerned if only Thor has the correct frequency for all the patches; that way if I were to be abducted, there would be no security breach."

"That sounds very sensible, Colonel," Hayes agreed, as Jack frowned at the possibility of Sam being abducted.

"Thank you, sir," Sam said, "We've isolated one computer in Thor's ship which will run a continuous scan of every patch that's activated. Since it'll basically be a passive scan that'll be confirming that every active patch is still in the Metro area and that nothing has interfered with it, it won't need anyone to supervise it. The computer will simply let us know if anything goes wrong."

"Every patch that's been activated?" Hayes asked. "Who else are you planning on giving a patch to?" Sam looked at Jack, who answered.

"We were planning on giving one to you," Jack nodded to the patch that Hayes still had in his hand, when Hayes nodded to show that he was resigned to the idea, Jack continued, "We also brought enough to give them to the Joints Chiefs, once we're sure they're who they're supposed to be. And the rest of SG1 and Booth's team will be getting theirs later today."

"Anyone else?" Hayes asked, keeping in mind the mention of Booth's team for later.

"Well," Jack said, as he shifted forward, "We were planning on giving one to the members of Congress that know of the existence of the Stargate – after making sure they're who they're supposed to be, and maybe to their top advisers," Jack added, "to the top advisers of the Chiefs and the other officers involved with the Stargate Program."

"Jack," Hayes said on a long sigh, "that's a lot of people."

"I know sir," Jack replied with a wary nod. "And that doesn't include all the people that don't know about the Program and their staff. But trying to give a patch to everyone would make things too awkward."

"There's no easy way to explain such advanced technology as this," Hayes agreed, holding up the patch he still held.

"Yes," Jack nodded. "Plus, there's also the fact that the more people that know we're doing this, the higher the probability that Ba'al will find out we're onto him. I want to keep this whole investigation as low key as possible until we've found every clone and found out exactly what that snake head is up to."

"I understand," Hayes told him. "But how are you planning on doing that? Because even if Thor's scans pinpoint every clone, from what you've told me, scanning takes a long time and without giving a patch to everyone that's been cleared, there's no way to be a hundred percent certain that they'll stay cleared – if you see what I mean."

"Yes, I do," Jack said, "the scan is too complicated for it to be done on everyone at once and there's no guarantee that someone that was declared an original wouldn't be changed to a clone afterwards. Not if we don't give everyone a patch; which we can't do without raising a number of suspicions. This is particularly true for the lower ranking staff, who I'm sure are the most likely candidates but who rarely have the clearance to know about the Program."

"Exactly," Hayes nodded as he got up to refill his glass of water. "So, what's you're plan?" he asked again.

"To conduct this as if it were another criminal investigation," was Jack's surprising answer. "Which is why Booth is here," he added, motioning to Booth, who had been more than happy to keep quiet up to that point. "Major, care to fill the President in on your investigation?"

"Yes, sir," Booth answered smartly as he sat up straight on the couch. "As General O'Neill said, I'm conducting this as if it were any other homicide investigation. All of the scans and advanced technology," he said, waving his hand around to indicate everything from the patches on the coffee table to Thor's ship that was in orbit, "are all very well and good but they won't tell us what Ba'al wants to do or even what he has done already. To know that, we have to look for anything that's out of place."

"So, how do we do that?" Hayes asked as he sat down again.

"Well," Booth answered, "first we go over what we know." With that, Booth started to tell the President what they knew and what his plan for finding out more was.

"What have you got so far?" Hayes asked when Booth finished speaking.

"As I was telling Colonel Carter," Booth answered, "the search for unidentified bodies has generated a few hits, the first of which are being taken to the Jeffersonian where Dr. Brennan and her team will examine them to see if they're clones or the bodies of the missing Congressional aides."

"Dr. Brennan and myself have also interviewed most of the replacements to the Congressional aides that have gone missing," Booth continued, "we didn't find out anything concrete, not that I was really expecting anything different. I just wanted to get a feel for the people and the situation," he added. Hayes, who had been an Air Force officer before getting into politics, Jack, and Sam, all nodded; as military officers they all knew the value of knowing your enemy and good intel.

"And?" Hayes asked. "Did you learn anything useful?"

"Nothing concrete," Booth repeated. "But something's off," he added, shrugging. "There was just something off about them," he said slowly, as if looking for words to explain what he was thinking. "Nothing I could put my finger on; they had all the right answers and attitude but there was just . . ." Booth trailed off.

"Something off?" Jack finished for him.

"Yes," Booth agreed, smiling. "We're already looking into their history, so hopefully we'll know something soon, but my gut tells me they're definitely involved. We've also managed to break into workable parts the Congressional records for the past year and the political positions of the Senators and Congressmen."

"That is a lot of information," Hayes remarked, shaking his head.

"Yes," Booth nodded. "And it's going to take quite a bit of time to go through it all; thankfully we have half of SG1 helping." At that, Hayes turned to look at Jack, surprised.

"Mitchell can't go into the field with that broken ankle," Jack explained. "And there's really no one better at condensing huge amounts of seemingly useless information than Daniel and Jonas, so that's what they're doing."

"Where are they doing all this?" Hayes asked.

"At the Jeffersonian," Jack answered. "As I said, I really want to keep this as low key as possible."

"I understand," Hayes said. "What does Landry say about this?"

"He doesn't really know the details of what's going on."

"You don't think the SGC has been compromised?" Hayes asked, surprised.

"Not at all," Jack responded, shaking his head. "With the security safeguards we implemented six months ago after we first discovered the clones, the SGC is probably the one place I'm sure of that has no clones. But still, there's no need to tell more people about it than absolutely have to know. Landry understands," Jack ended with a shrug.

"And he doesn't mind that you're keeping his best team for an indefinite amount of time?"

"Oh, I'm sure he does mind," Jack said with a small smile. "But he also knows I wouldn't keep them here if it weren't necessary and that he'll know the details when it's safe. He's good soldier; he knows what 'on a need to know' means."

Hayes nodded again and said, "Well, it sounds like you have things under control."

"As much as we can," Jack said, "yes we do." Before Hayes could respond, the phone rang to let them know the Joints Chiefs had arrived. A few minutes later, they were shown into the room and the explanations began all over again.

--

"Hey, Bren," Angela said as she walked to where her best friend was examining one of the remains the FBI had brought in. "How you doing?"

"Fine," Brennan answered distractedly as all her attention was on the body before her.

"The SG1 boys are completely buried in their research," Angela said, leaning against a table and crossing her arms. "And now that Vala's here, they've pulled her into it."

"That's good," Brennan responded, once again sounding as if she didn't know what she was responding to.

"I guess," Angela said. "She's into it now too; though she did resist for a while but when they failed to respond to any of her taunts, she gave up and joined them."

"That's nice," Brennan replied as she moved to get a better angle. Then proving she was paying attention she asked, "Why aren't you helping them out too? I thought you were going to help in the research since there's not much else for you to do here yet."

"I am," the artist answered with a nod. "But I needed to take a break. There's only so much reading about politics I can do before I'm bored to tears and my head starts to feel as if it were being squeezed in a vice – slowly."

"It's not that bad," Brennan argued, looking up at Angela through her goggles.

"No, it's worse," Angela nodded for emphasis. "So, tell me: why are you here instead of with Booth? I mean, they were going to the While House today!!"

"Yes, I know," Brennan answered with a small grimace. "They were going to debrief the President and the Joint Chiefs about the case. Who knows how long that'll take and I had to start working on the remains, so I thought this was a better use of my time. There's nothing I would add to that discussion anyway."

"Maybe not," Angela said with a shrug, "but it's the White House!" Angela repeated, wide eyed. "How can you pass an opportunity to meet the President and be at the Oval Office??"

"I already met the President that time I went to that luncheon which, incidentally, was held at the White House," Brennan reminded Angela.

"I know," Angela nodded. "But that was a big luncheon; you barely got to say hi to the man. Don't you want to meet him on a one on one basis?"

"Not really," was the careless reply which had Angela gaping. Noticing this, Brennan added, "Come on, Angela. He's just a man; there's nothing that special about him."

"Nothing special…" Angela repeated incredulous. "Bren that man is the President of the United States! Only the most powerful man in the world! And not only is your man meeting him but you had a chance to too! How can you be so nonchalant about it?"

"I guess because I had more important things to worry about than meeting a politician," was the dry response.

"Hey, Bren," Angela said, on a softer tone as she walked closer to Brennan. "Are you ok?"

"Sure," Brennan answered with a shrug not looking up from the body. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because Booth is back on active duty," Angela answered. "And I know how you feel about that." The quiet observation had Brennan stopping was she was doing and looking up at the concerned face of her best friend. "So, are you ok?"

"Yes," Brennan answered, sighing. "I'm as okay as I'm going to be," she added, straightening and moving to lean against the rail. "I don't like it but there's not much I can do about it."

"Have you talked to Booth?" Angela asked, coming to lean next to her.

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "We talked about it that same night. And I get it; more than that, I share his excitement about this case."

"But . . .?" Angela asked.

"There's no but," Brennan denied. At Angela's knowing look, she sighed and added, "I know he loves me and Parker and our life together but I also know that there's a part of him that likes the idea of going through the Gate on a regular basis."

"Yeah, well, of course there is," Angela nodded. "I'd be surprise if there wasn't. I mean the man was a Ranger and is now an FBI agent; I'd say it was a given that he likes action."

"Yes, he does."

"And it's not like you don't," Angela pointed out. "I think the fact that both of you like action so much is one of the reasons you guys understand each other so well, despite of how different you are in most other areas."

"Maybe," Brennan conceded after thinking about it for a minute. "But I'm not the one that's being called back to active duty every time something comes up, am I? Nor am I the one that would be on the front lines if some generals in the Pentagon that have nothing to do with us decide he's needed there."

"The chances of that happening are slim to none," Angela protested.

"But they still exist," Brennan argued.

"Yes, they do," Angela granted. "But that's the man you fell in love with. He's dedicated, loyal, brave and will do what he has to do to make sure the people he loves are safe – even if that includes going to war."

"I know," Brennan agreed. "And I also know I wouldn't love him half as much if he were any less of a man than he is."

"You probably wouldn't have fallen in love with him in the first place," Angela corrected. "Because you have that same core of values, you also do whatever you think is right and necessary to protect those weaker than you. And that is another reason why you guys are perfect for each other."

"Maybe," Brennan said again. "It still sucks," she added with as close to a pout as Brennan ever got and that showed Angela that while Brennan was never going to like the idea that Booth could be sent off to war without much notice, she had accepted it and even understood it.

"Yes, it does," Angela agreed as she put her arm around Brennan's shoulder. "But hey, look on the bright side; his ass does look great in his uniform."

"That it does," Brennan agreed with a small laugh, determinedly shaking off her earlier thoughts. "Yup," she added as she remembered how Booth had looked that morning. "That it definitely does."


	12. Chapter 12

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're still not mine.

**A/N: **Well, here's the next chapter. Sorry about having taken so long to put it up. I just had other stories in my head; the good news is that those stories are for the most part done. Well, unless musie decides to give me even more new ideas, which knowing musie is entirely possible - but let's not borrow trouble just yet. Even more good news, this was supposed to be one chapter but it turned into a huge monster of a chapter (and knowing me that's saying something), so my beta and I decided to turn it into two. That means, the second part is all done and betaed and I should be posting it in a few days!! Yay!! Of course, the next chappie is a biggie, case-wise, with lots of physical descriptions and case things to explain, my two least favorite things to write. That brings me to the bad news, it might be a bit before I get that done, and since it'll be a huge cliffie, I won't be posting it until I have the next two chapters done. Hopefully, since I'm pretty much done with my other fics, it won't be too long!! But for now, enjoy!!

**Chapter 12 **

"You're doing great, buddy, keep it up," Booth called out and Parker smiled at him before turning his attention back to Teal'c, who was giving him his first Jaffa martial arts lesson. With a nostalgic smile at how fast his baby boy was growing up, Booth walked away from where the others were sparring and towards the wall where his towel and water bottle were waiting.

After a last glance at the gym in Hodgins' estate and all the people in it, Booth leaned down and picked up his water bottle. Uncapping the bottle, he brought it to his mouth and took a long swallow before bringing it up over his forehead and letting a stream of water pour down over his face and through his hair.

The water mixed with his sweat and ran down his face; the rivulets streaked down his temple, across his sharp cheekbones to his chin and down his neck where it met the collar of his sleeveless t-shirt. The faded, gray, FBI t-shirt, already damp with his sweat, absorbed the moisture and clung to his well defined torso. Once the bottle was empty, he threw it into his duffel bag and picked up his towel. He patted his face with it before rubbing it against his hair and neck and left it hanging around his neck.

With a sigh, he sat down against the wall to observe his team and SG1 vent the frustration of the last two weeks by exercising. Without looking, he reached down for another bottle of water and brought it to his mouth for another swallow. He grimaced as Daniel landed a particularly hard jab on Jonas' chest before finally bringing the bottle to his lips. When he was done, he rested his hand on his upturned knee and leaned back on the wall to rest for a few moments.

"Taking a breather?" Jack asked as he sat down next to Booth, drinking from his own bottle of water.

"Oh, yeah," Booth nodded. "Half an hour of sparring with Teal'c after a full day at work is quite enough. What about you? I thought you'd be out there with Teal'c teaching Parker?" In fact, Jack had begun Parker's lesson while Teal'c sparred with Booth; when Booth had called a halt to their sparring session, the Jaffa had moved over to help with Parker's lesson.

"Nope," Jack shook his head. "T pretty much evicted me; said he needed to make sure I hadn't done any damage already," he added with a mock frown towards the tall man out on the mats.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, sir," Booth said with a small smile, well aware by then of how much SG1 and the general liked to tease each other. Jack grunted in response and a comfortable silence fell between the men as they continued to observe their teams in action. "You were right," Booth commented a few moments later, "to insist we take some time off. We all needed it."

"Yeah," Jack replied. "The last two weeks haven't been easy on anyone and we all need to step back from it and let off some steam." The investigation had been moving forward very slowly and the more days that passed without concrete answers, the shorter everyone's temper became. "And I thought it was time your son had that lesson I promised him."

"He was very excited about it," Booth confided. "He's been looking forward to it for weeks." He paused before adding, "I . . . we really appreciate this, sir. I know you have a lot of things on your plate right now and taking the time . . ."

"Booth," Jack said, raising his hand and forcing Booth to halt mid-sentence. "There's no reason to thank me; I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. Believe me, having these lessons are as much for me as for Parker." Booth didn't look too convinced but decided to take the general at his word.

"Still," Booth persisted. "I wanted to let you know how much it means to us. And," he added before Jack could protest once more, "you really chose the one reason Bones couldn't and wouldn't refuse."

"She didn't want to take the time off, huh?" Jack asked with a grin.

"No," Booth shook his head. "She didn't but she knew how much Parker was looking forward to his first lesson and didn't want to disappoint him. Plus," Booth grinned, tilting his head, "she was hoping she could get a lesson herself."

"So I see," Jack agreed, motioning to where Brennan had approached Teal'c and Parker and was talking her way into the lesson. "She really goes after what she wants, doesn't she?"

"That she does," Booth answered with a quiet chuckle.

"Gotta admire that," Jack commented.

"Yeah," Booth nodded. "So, did Colonel Carter have a problem taking the time off? I know Daniel wasn't too thrilled with the idea."

"No, she wasn't," Jack shook his head. "But she understood that it was time to take a break. Sometimes she forgets that breaks are necessary; thankfully, it doesn't take much to remind her."

"Really?" Booth asked, surprised and amazed. "It takes me forever to convince Bones to take breaks."

"I should have said it doesn't take much to remind her _now_. It wasn't always like that but I've been proven right time and again when it comes to this so she's had to acknowledge I have a point."

"Sensible," Booth said. "Wish Bones was as sensible," he muttered under his breath and Jack had to hide his grin.

"Well, it did take me years to get to his point," Jack confessed. "So, don't give up hope yet."

"I'll try to remember that," Booth told him before taking a long swallow of water. When he brought the bottle down, he rested his hands on his elbows and without looking away from Parker and Brennan said, "it's going to happen soon, isn't it?"

Jack didn't have to ask what 'it' meant. "Yeah," he answered, nodding his head and looking at Sam and Vala spar. "Probably in the next few days. That's another reason I insisted on taking this time off. We all need to be at our best and not feel run down with fatigue or frustration."

"Yeah, I know," Booth replied quietly. "Do they know?"

"Probably not," Jack shook his head. "I think Sam might suspect but since there's been nothing concrete yet, there's no reason why they would know anything."

"If there's been nothing concrete yet," Booth began, "Why are we so sure something's going to break soon?" he asked wryly.

"Because," Jack told him, "we've been doing this long enough to know when a case or a mission is about to break."

Booth nodded and said nothing because there was nothing to say. The investigation had been going slowly and they'd only managed to find out bits and pieces; nothing big enough to give them a clear indication of what was going on. And yet, both he and the general knew it was all coming to a head. The pieces had started to form a whole and while that whole was still not complete, it was complete enough to let the two men know the end was near.

"Bones is going to want to go when we take him out," Booth said a few moments later.

"Dr. Brennan is a very capable woman," Jack stated. "And she has many admirable qualities; however, she is not military nor has she had any training. She is not going with you." The last was an order given by a superior officer.

"I know," Booth nodded. "And frankly, that's a load off my mind. Still, that doesn't mean she won't put up a fight and try to be included."

"I know she will," Jack agreed. "I'm actually looking forward to the argument." When Booth looked surprised, Jack laughed and added, "it's been a long time since anyone has dared to contradict me or argue with me when I've given an order. I find it stimulating to find someone who has no trepidation in standing up to me."

"Colonel Carter and Daniel have no problem arguing with you," Booth pointed out.

"Sam doesn't argue when I give an order," Jack corrected him. "She might argue with me about everything else but once I've given an order about work, she follows it. That's the soldier in her and I don't think that'll ever change. Even Daniel stops arguing once I've given the order. It wasn't always like that," Jack remembered. "He would sometimes argue until I felt like punching him but once I got promoted, things changed."

"Yeah, I can see that," Booth said. "I can't imagine how you do it," Booth mused as he shook his head.

"Do what?" Jack asked.

"Give the order that sends your wife and best friend – best friends into harms way," Booth specified.

"It's not easy," Jack said with a look in his eyes that said that was an understatement. "But we all do what we have to do," he continued. "The hardest part is staying behind and not being able to go with them. I know there's always the possibility one of them might not come back and I don't know how I'll live with myself if that day ever comes." He grew quiet for a few moments as he got lost somewhere inside his mind. "Even when I'm not the one giving the direct orders, I'm ultimately responsible for all their missions. But you know the ironic part?" he asked and Booth shook his head. "I wouldn't want anyone else to do it; I don't _trust_ anyone else to do it."

"I think I can understand that," Booth said slowly as he thought about it.

"You and I," Jack told him slowly as if conferring a great secret, "are what your Dr. Brennan probably refers to as 'alpha males'. We're born and bred to protect. We've been trained and dedicated our whole lives to serve those weaker than use, those that are under our protection. Every instinct we possess demands that we make sure that the people we care for are safe. Leaving that responsibility to someone else is . . . not something we can easily do."

"No," Booth shook his head, "it's not. They don't make it easy, though, do they?"

"No, sometimes they make it damn hard," Jack answered. "And sometimes life makes it impossible," he added quietly, sounding as if the words were dragged from him.

"You sound as if you speak from experience," Booth said, thinking that the general was talking about a subordinate he'd sent on a mission gone wrong. Though it had been more a comment than a question, Booth expected the general to say something but he didn't say anything.

The silence that then descended was oppressive; no longer the comfortable silence of a few minutes earlier, this silence was filled with the pain of old hurts and the memory of things that could not be undone. It was the kind of silence that one actually felt but could never break – no matter how uncomfortable it got or how much one might want to.

"He's got your instincts," Jack said after several long moments, not taking his gaze from Parker.

"You think?" Booth asked, unable to stop the grin of pride from spreading across his face.

"Yes," Jack nodded, somewhat absently. "They're precocious at that age, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Booth answered. "He only has two speeds now, fast and faster."

"I remember those days," Jack said with a far away look in his eyes and the same absent tone of voice. "It's a very busy but precious time. Treasure it," he advised Booth with the air of one who knew what he was saying, "once it's gone, it won't be back."

Booth's head had sharply turned towards the general as soon as he'd said the first few words. By the time he was finished, Booth's jaw had closed again and he was frowning in confusion. As far as he'd known, the general didn't have children.

"I thought you didn't have kids," Booth said, a bit hesitantly because there was something about the general's demeanor that didn't really invite questions even if it didn't outright prohibit them.

"I did," was the quiet answer. "I don't any more."

Booth's mouth opened and closed without saying anything once more. It wasn't really a surprise, not given what he knew of the general's history and the tone of the conversation. Still, it wasn't something you talk of in casual conversation and he couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. 'I'm sorry' seemed both wholly inadequate and completely superfluous. How could they even begin to address the injury that losing a child left behind? How far could any two words go in healing that kind of pain? No one that hadn't experienced it themselves could even begin to understand the gaping hole such a tragedy left in your life, in your soul. And yet, there was nothing else to say.

"I'm sorry," Booth said softly. Jack, who was by then staring at Sam, nodded once.

"It's been over ten years now," Jack mused out loud a few moments later. "Sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday," he continued, without looking away from Sam. "And sometimes," he added in an even softer voice, "you can go days and even weeks without thinking about it. And I still haven't figured out which one is worse." Booth, who knew something about pain and loss, nodded.

"Was he sick?" he asked, despite the somber mood that had fallen over the men, the general seemed strangely willing to share what must have been the worst experience of his life.

"No," Jack shook his head. "He was a very healthy little boy." And then before Booth could get up the courage to ask, "he accidentally shot himself with my service weapon."

Booth blinked and opened and closed his mouth without saying anything once again. He couldn't think of one thing he could say to that.

"Your worst nightmare, huh?" Jack asked with a bitter smile when it became obvious Booth wouldn't say anything.

"Yeah," Booth replied softly, nodding his head. The death of a child was every parent's worst nightmare but to have your child be killed by your service weapon was a variation featured most predominantly among law enforcement officers.

"You've talked to Parker about not playing with your gun?" Jack asked, finally turning to look at Booth.

"Yes," Booth answered. "We've had a few talks about it. Part of me wants to have it every time he stays over and part of me doesn't want to talk about it at all. It's a fine line – talking about it enough to make him aware of the dangers and talking about it so much that it makes him curious enough to go look for it. The call of the forbidden and all that."

"I know what you mean," Jack acknowledged.

"Bones wants to take him to a firing range and teach him how to use a gun," Booth confided a few moments later. "She says that he'll become curious about it sooner or later but if we actually show him what it is and how to use it and how deadly it could be, it should significantly decrease the forbidden allure since it won't be a mystery any longer. And we'll have had control over the whole experience."

"That makes sense," Jack said and had Booth frowning. "You don't agree with her?"

"I don't know," Booth answered, shrugging and by his tone of voice, Jack could tell it was a touchy subject. "I understand where she's coming from and she might even be right but," he paused and shook his head.

"But," Jack continued for him, "you don't want him anywhere near a gun."

"No," Booth agreed firmly. "I want him as far away from them as I can possibly keep him. The idea of putting a gun in his hands is . . . repugnant. I carry one so that I can protect him, so that I can make the world a safer place and so that he, hopefully, won't ever have to pick one up. I don't want him exposed to the evils of this world – at least not now. I want to keep him innocent for as long as I can. I just want to . . . protect him."

"Teaching him how to correctly use a gun is another way of protecting him," Jack pointed out. "You're not only teaching him how to protect himself from the evils in the world but also from his own curiosity."

"That's what Bones said," Booth said with a wry twist of his lips before sighing.

"I understand where you're coming from," Jack sympathized. "You want nothing more than to protect him; unfortunately, you can't always do that. Sometimes, life's a bitch and events will be out of your control and things will happen that you can't change." Jack paused and let his head fall back against the wall; they'd come full circle in the conversation.

"That doesn't sit well with you," Jack continued when he noticed Booth's frown. "You're a man of action. You make things happen and you protect those you care for – even if you have to die trying. But you _know_ that that's not always an option. You _know_ that you dying instead of a loved one or an innocent one sometimes is not even a choice. The fact that shit _will_ happen and that you won't always be around to protect or even save those you love is probably the hardest thing men like you and I will ever live with; it's something we will never fully accept because it goes against everything we are and yet, we have no say in the matter because that's life and we can't do anything about it. The only thing we _can_ do is find a way to live with it and not to let it ruin our lives."

Booth, who had frowned at the start of Jack's speech, ended up nodding by the end. They might not like it, they might rebel against it and they might never accept it but life happened and it wasn't fair and sometimes good people died before their time and bad things happened to good people and there was nothing anyone could do about it. And in the end, all you had was faith; faith in yourself, that you would always do your best; faith in your team, that they would always be there and do their best and faith that however unfair life seemed, however chaotic and messed up, there was a plan and that things did happen for a reason. Booth believed in God and that belief had gotten him through some horrible times and Jack had lived and seen too much to not believe that there was something out there bigger than us.

After sharing a knowing glance, the two men turned back to the gym floor as silence fell between them once again. This time the silence was different; no longer the comfortable silence of colleagues or the oppressive silence of someone's pain and another's ignorance of that pain; this silence was filled with the relief of burdens released. It was filled with the unique peace that comes when you find out that someone else understands the weight you carry when you've never really understood it yourself.

Finding out that someone else not only understood but also carried the same horrible responsibility that comes from being ultimately responsible for the safety of those you loved was a freeing experience and one that neither Jack nor Booth had ever really felt before. Their significant others might be more than capable of taking care of themselves and their teams might be filled with brilliant people that often accomplished the impossible, but when it came down to it, they were the ones that were in charge, they were the ones that made the final decisions. And that is a solitary position; one that can be isolating. Knowing that someone besides them was in the same position made the load seem lighter.

Booth had known he and the general shared some common experiences, but he had not known the extent of the similarities. The general was a very private man and for him to speak so frankly, meant more to Booth than he could ever express. It made him feel proud and humble and gave him a reassurance that only a man that had been in the same position as Booth could give. It also cemented their friendship in a way few other things could have done.

Jack, for his part, was wondering what had gotten into him that he'd spoken so candidly when he usually communicated only in sarcastic comments and orders – unless he was speaking to his wife, Daniel or Teal'c. He wasn't an open person and he never discussed feelings. But there was something about Booth that made him say things out loud that he'd barely admitted silently. Not that he regretted it; he didn't. He would never admit it to anyone, but saying those things out loud did make him feel better. It was nice to know that there was someone that understood where he was coming from without him having to continuously explain himself.

A few minutes later, the two men had rested enough and, as one, got up and went back to join their teams. The solidarity they'd found in each other would always be there but as nice as it was, neither one wanted to be isolated from their friends and family. There would always be something that kept them a bit apart from them, but there was no need to make that gap bigger.


	13. Chapter 13

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Still, not mine.

**A/N: **I promised a fast update, right? I always try to keep my promises but dumb me, I lost the beta version of this chapter. So, that's why it's taken me so long. It was actually supposed to be out three nights ago. Anyway, it's here now! Hope you like it!! If there are any mistakes left, it's all my fault. Puppet sent me the beta version but I deleted so it's all my fault!! Still, I hope you enjoy it and case action is coming up in the next chapter!! Though, you'd probably wish you hadn't asked for it! hehehe, intrigued??

**Chapter 13**

A few hours later, Booth and Brennan were on their way to his place after dropping Parker at his mother's.

"Park had a good time today," Brennan commented, trying to get Booth to talk. He'd been quieter than usual since they left Hodgins' estate.

"Yeah," Booth agreed but said nothing else.

"I'm glad Rebeca finally gave in and gave her permission for him to take the classes."

"Ummm hmm."

"Parker's very good," she said. "He followed Teal'c's instructions perfectly; he barely needed any corrections to his postures. Of course, Teal'c is a great teacher but still, Parker's very good." All she got was a noncommittal grunt. "I found the discipline fascinating. It had some of the same moves as the ones I already practice but most moves were new and some were in combinations I'd have never thought of." She paused for a moment to see if there was a response from the other side of the car but again, all she got was a grunt. Ok, time to turn up the heat a little. "One has to admit that all those scantily clad, sweating, perfectly symmetrical male bodies were a great diversion." This time she barely had any response at all.

This lack of response was atypical for him and unnerving to her. She bit her lip as she turned to study him debating how to get him to react. Finally, she decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

"You know," she began casually as she settled back into her seat and fiddled with the window control. "I have to say that you and the general were right. Taking the night off and working out was the right thing to do." A shrug was her response. An admission that he had been right and she had been wrong and he only shrug? Enough of the baiting, sometimes you had to take the bull by the horns.

"Ok, Booth," she said, sounding exasperated as she turned on her seat, tucked her left leg under her and folded her arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he denied, finally turning to look at her – even if for just a moment. "What makes think there's anything wrong?"

"What makes me think . . .?" she asked, incredulous. "Oh, I don't know maybe the fact that you've barely heard a thing I've said for the last ten minutes. I just told you that I enjoyed looking at the other men in the gym and you barely grunted, then I said you and the general were right and you only shrugged. How can I not think there's something wrong? I mean, you always listen to me; even when you're not sure what I'm saying, you listen to me. You never tune me out – unless there's something major going on." It was true, Booth never ignored her, he might shut her up when she went into scientific lecture mode but he never flat out ignored her - and since they got together, the shutting up had become more pleasurable since he now mostly kissed her to shut her up.

"You're missing having my undivided attention, huh, Bones?" he asked with a smirk. And though she was glad to see the spark return to his eyes, she wasn't going to let him distract her from her point.

"Booth," she said, softly, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," he denied again but the look on her face when he turned to look at her told him she wouldn't let it go. "I'm just thinking that's all."

"About?" she pressed. "And don't tell me that it's about the case," she warned him. "I know it's not."

"How do you know?" he wanted to know.

"Because if it was about the case you would be talking about it," she told him. "You always talk about the cases; the only thing you don't talk about, well besides sex,"

"Bones!" Booth cried out, interrupting her as he turned a quick frown her way.

"What?" she asked innocently. "It's the truth," she defended herself and he shook his head. "But anyway, besides that there's . . . well, there's nothing else I can think of that you won't talk to me. So, give: what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he said again but added before she could say anything else. "I'm just," he paused and shook his head. "I guess it just dawned on me how fast Parker is growing."

"Ah," she said, somewhat surprised. "I wouldn't think he's growing any faster than any other six years old."

"Yeah, Bones," Booth said with a quick laugh. "I know; that wasn't really what I meant, though."

"Oh," she frowned. Before she could think of anything to say, Booth spoke up again.

"Did you know that the general had a son?" he asked.

"The general has a kid?" she asked, surprised. "No, I hadn't heard anything about that. That's surprising, I mean, we've known them for over six months and . . ."

"Had, Bones," Booth said, interrupting her introspection. "I said 'had' not 'has'."

"Had?" she repeated before saying, "Oh," as she understood what that meant. "I'm really sorry. Losing a child is a terrible thing to go through," she was sincere. She had never really thought about kids and what that would mean but that changed when she met Booth. And after having spent time with Parker, she had an idea of what losing a child could do to a person. He wasn't even her own kid and she would be devastated if anything were to happen to him. "I'm surprise the general's doing so well."

"Well, it's been more than ten years now, Bones," he told her. "The man has recovered from it."

"Umm," she said.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "It's just that I don't think the death of a child is something you can fully recover from – especially if you're a man like the general."

"What do you mean: 'a man like the general?" he asked her, throwing her a quick glance.

"He's not only an alpha male," she answered, echoing what Jack had said earlier, "but he's also career military. He's spent his whole adult life protecting those weaker than him. It's not easy for a man like him to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't save the one person that depended solely on him, the one person that had the right to expect his protection. That kind of failure will probably haunt him for the rest of his life."

"It was an accident, Bones," Booth argued. "Not a failure."

"Of course not," she agreed with him, "but I'm sure that's how he sees it. And I don't know if, given who he is, he could see it any other way. Men like him tend to think of themselves as some kind of supermen and they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. It's completely unrealistic, and frankly I think it's absurd, no one can do everything; no one, no matter how powerful, can save everybody. There was probably nothing the general could have done to save his son but I don't think he believes that; deep down, I'm sure he blames himself and I doubt he'll ever forgive himself - whether or not he has anything to forgive himself for. He will probably always view that as his greatest failure; no matter how many other innocent lives he saves, no matter how much good he does in his life, he will always believe that he failed one of the most important people in his life."

"Wow, Bones," he said, sounding amazed. "You never ceased to surprise me. I don't think you can claim not to understand people anymore, Bones. That was a darn insightful look into the general's character."

"That wasn't really based on the general's character, Booth," she denied.

"No?" he queried, raising a brow. "Then what was it based on? Your knowledge of alpha male behavior?"

"Yes," she answered, "and no." When he threw her a questioning look, she explained. "It was based on my knowledge of alpha males but most of my knowledge of how alpha males behave is based on you. The reason I can predict or analyze with any accuracy how the general reacts to things is because I know you and how you react to them. The general and you are similar enough that any extrapolation of your behavior to predict his is bound to be fairly accurate."

"Okay," he drawled out, still surprised at how accurately she knew him. Though he shouldn't really be; there was no one that knew him as well as she did.

"And I know you well enough to know," she told him, "that you're worrying about something happening to Parker."

"Well, yes," he admitted. "He's growing so fast; I feel like I'm losing my little boy. He's doing more and more things by himself, meeting new people, going places and there are so many dangers out there," he paused and shook his head. "I just don't know what I would do if anything were to happen to him."

"I know, Booth," she said, laying a sympathetic hand on his arm. "Life can be very dangerous but it can also be wonderful. You have to let him live his and realize that, no matter how much you might want to, you can't always be there to protect him. You can only do your best and teach him how to protect himself."

"That's basically what the general said," Booth commented.

"Yes, well, the general is a very smart man," Brennan shrugged.

"Yeah?" Booth asked, smiling. "I'm going to remind you you said that in a couple of days."

"Why?" she asked, curious.

"Because," he answered slowly, as if thinking about what he was saying, "I'm pretty sure you're not going to like what he's going to do."

"What is he going to . . .?" she started to ask but trailed off when she noticed how uncomfortable Booth looked. "Booth, what's going on? This is not just about Parker, is it?"

"No," he said, simply. He paused for a minute before continuing, "Bones, things are coming to a head on the case."

"To a head?" she repeated. "I don't understand." It's been a while since she'd said that but it seemed Booth could always come up with sayings to confuse her.

"It just means that something's going to happen," he explained, "and soon."

"About the case?" she asked, surprised. He nodded. "But there's nothing to indicate that we're getting close to the end. What makes you think that something's going to happen soon?"

"It's just a feeling I got . . ."

"In your gut," she finished for him.

"Yeah," Booth nodded, "my gut and the general's." He turned briefly to see how she was taking that argument and saw that she had her lips closed in thought. He gave her a few moments to get her thoughts together since he knew she wasn't one to put too much stock on feelings.

"Well," she said, finally. "Your gut has yet to steer you wrong. And, given everything the general's gone through in his life, I guess it's safe to say his gut is pretty good too. What?" she asked him when she saw his wide eyed face.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "I just never thought I'd hear you acknowledge gut feelings."

"There is no empirical evidence to support them," she contended, "but I've seen the results, so I have to allow for the possibility that they are real. But what does any of this have to do with me remembering that I think the general's smart and what is he going to do?"

"Because," Booth answered, "when the case breaks open, there's a very good chance that I'll be involved in some kind of op and things are going to get dicey."

"And the general is not going to let me go with you, is that it?" she asked, frowning.

"That's about it," he nodded. When he saw her frown grow, he added, "come on, Bones, please don't make a big deal out of this."

"Why would I make a big deal out of this?" she asked, crossing her arms underneath her breast and turning to look out the windshield. "It's not like you're my partner and I'm used to go with you on the field, is it?"

"Oh, come on, Bones," he said again, "that's different and you know it. This is not like our regular cases. This will be more like a military op than anything else and you are not trained for those." When her arms tightened more around herself and her lips became even smaller, he sighed and softly said, "Bones, you know Parker is not the only one I worry about, right? I don't know what I would do if anything were to happen to you."

"Oh, no," she shook her head vehemently even more upset at his attempt to calm her down, "you're not trying to use that argument to get me to stop coming with you to crime scenes, are you?"

"No," he answered sincerely. "I'm not. I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself and, frankly, you are an asset in the field; I wouldn't want to go out with you." She smiled and calmed down at his honest reassurance. "But, Bones, this is different. I won't be arresting just any regular criminal; this is a very smart, very determined and devious s.o.b. The whole scheme is too well thought out for any action to take him down to be easy. This will be more on line with a raid that our regular cases and you, well, you're just not trained for those," he repeated, trying to get her to see reason.

"This is the same as when you went off world with SG1 six months ago and the general wouldn't let me go with you, isn't?" she asked and he nodded tightly. "And that's what he's going to do that I won't like – he'll order me not to go with you."

"Yes," he answered. "Bones, you remember the Decker case? You agreed to stay away while I went in with the SWAT team, didn't you?"

"Booth!" she protested, "that was over three years ago!"

"But it's the same principle," Booth argued. "Actually, it's even worse because this time they won't be regular mercenaries but would more than likely be trained Jaffa."

"Jaffa?" she asked, surprised. "You really expect to run into Jaffa? Here on Earth?"

"It's a strong probability," he shrugged. "Like I said, this is a well thought out scheme by a megalomaniac alien warlord who has at his disposal all kinds of weapons and genetically bred warriors. Chances are it won't be your run of the mill raid, Bones. And I really need to be focus on what I'm doing and not be worried about your safety."

"Will my being there really distract you that much?" she asked, looking intently at him. Since they had arrived home already, he was able to turn off the car and turn to look her in the eye before he answered her.

"Yes," it was said simply and quietly and she had no choice but to believe him. "You're usually an asset on the scene, Bones, but these are not usual circumstances and having you there will be more distracting than helpful. Please, don't try to force your way into it; don't fight the general when he asks you to stay behind." She sighed and looked forward for a few moments as she chewed her lips.

"I don't like you going out there without me for backup," she finally told him, turning to look at him again.

"I know," he acknowledged. "But I won't be alone. I'll have most of SG1 for backup. And you know they're good." He tried to reassure her.

"I know but," she shook her head, "I really don't like this Booth. I hope you don't make this a habit because I have no intention of staying behind on a regular basis."

"I won't," he told her. "I promise. Now, come here," he ordered her as he pulled her forward for a kiss. When they pulled apart a few moments later, she rested her face on his shoulder and tightened her arms around his torso.

"You better come back in one piece or I'll never forgive you," she threatened him.

"I'll come back safe and sound," he promised her again. "You'll see. I'll never leave you, Temperance," he told her as he pulled back so he could look into her eyes.

"I'll hold you to that," she promised him before pulling his head back down for another kiss. She didn't know why and she'd never tell him but she had a very bad feeling about the impeding raid.

--

"Are you okay?" Sam asked Jack as she walked up behind the sofa Jack was sitting on. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She kissed him on the neck before resting her face against his. "You've been very quiet this evening."

"I'm fine," he answered, reaching up his hands and holding her arms snuggly against him. "Just thinking, I guess." He added with a shrug.

"Ummm," she said before kissing him on the head. She then released him and walked around the sofa to sit next to him. "I saw you talking to Booth earlier," she commented as she shifted to sit with her left leg under her, leaned her elbow on the back of the sofa and her head on her left hand. "It looked like a very earnest conversation," she added. Her infliction and look invited Jack to tell her what the conversation had been about.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "I guess it was." When he didn't say anything else, she brought her hand down to his head and started playing with his hair.

"You want to talk to about it?" she asked a few moments later.

"We were talking about kids," Jack said. "Booth was a bit nostalgic about how fast Parker's growing." He paused for a minute and then added in a very low voice, "I told him about Charlie."

"Oh," she whispered as her eyes widened and her hand faltered in her combing of his hair in surprise.

"You're surprised," he told her, turning his head and holding her eyes with his own.

"No," she quickly denied. When he just looked at her with his eyebrows raised, she added, "Okay, yes, I am." Though Jack had gotten much better at talking about emotionally difficult issues since they began their romantic relationship, Charlie was still one topic he rarely touched on. "You don't usually talk about him with anyone – not even Daniel or me." The last was said in an almost whisper and Jack winced at the hurt behind the word.

"I know," he agreed. "Hey," he added when he saw her eyes turned downwards and her hand flopping to the sofa from his neck. He placed his fingers under her chin and brought her eyes back up to his. "I'm sorry. It's nothing against you or Daniel."

"No," she shook her head. "You don't have anything to apologize for," she told him sincerely. She moved her hand from the back of the sofa to the hand on her chin, laced her fingers through his and pulled them to her lap. "I'm just glad you have someone you feel comfortable enough to talk to about these things."

"It's not that I'm not comfortable talking to you – about anything." He paused before adding, "To tell you the truth, I'm not really sure why I talk to him about it."

She tilted her head and studied him for a long moment before a slow smile spread across her face.

"What?" he asked, fidgeting at the knowing look in her eyes.

"Nothing," she answered, still smiling. "It's just that I'm pretty sure I know why you're so comfortable with him."

"So?" he asked. "You want to share with the rest of the class?" he demanded when she said nothing, moving his head and hand in a 'get on with it' gesture.

"He's a lot like you, Jack," she finally informed him. When he grimaced a little and half shook his head, she grinned and insisted. "Yes, he is very much like you. In fact," she began to add but hesitated.

"What is it?" he prompted. "Tell me."

"Well," she began slowly, not sure if it was a good idea to continue but at his encouraging nod, she decided to go on. "I sometimes think that Booth is who you would have been if you'd retired from the military before Charlie's accident. And stayed retired," she added when she saw him opened his mouth to comment on the retirement point.

His mouth snapped shut at her qualification and the faint grin he had been wearing slipped off as he turned his face and stared unseeing at the TV. A few moments later, just as she was getting worried enough to speak up, he gave a half nod.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess I can see why you'd think that."

"You do?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah," he repeated. "We've had similar experiences and yet at the same time he's more . . . innocent."

"Innocent?" Sam asked with a grin. "I don't think Booth is really that innocent." She shook her head and chuckled as she tried to think of the tall, imposing and very experienced F.B.I. agent as innocent.

"Ok," Jack conceded, grinning himself. "Innocent might not be the best choice of words." He paused and then added, "Maybe saying his soul is not as stained as mine. Would that be better?" When Sam gaped at him in shock, he added, "Or maybe not as broken would be even better."

"Jack!" Sam cried out, exasperated, when she recovered from the shock. "You are not broken! Nor is your soul stained! Neither of you," she protested.

"Sam," Jack said softly. "You don't know a fraction of what I've done – or what Booth's done for that matter."

"No," she agreed. "I don't. But I do know you and while I might not know Booth as well, I do know that whatever you've done, you had a darn good reason for doing it." When he didn't look convinced, she leaned forward and pulled on his hand until he was looking her in the eye.

"I served under your direct command for 8 years and under your general command for the last three, I know you've had to make some hard decisions; some which I didn't agree with at the time but that in retrospect turned out to be right. You've always been able to keep the big picture in mind – what was best for Earth and not just what seemed right at the time. And that's why _you_ were the one making those decisions," she pointed out. "I know they weren't easy to make and some might have come back to haunt you, but you made them because that was what had to be done. You, and Booth, have the ability to recognize what has to be done and you both have the will to get it done – no matter how hard it is to do it. Not everyone can do that. It's what makes you the leaders you are. But because it is a hard thing to do and because you're good men, it's not something you can always easily live with. But that doesn't mean you're broken or that your souls are stained."

"Sam," he said again, and she knew he was going to argue with her.

"No," she said firmly. "You're the one that's always saying I'm the smart one in this relationship, right?" She raised her eyebrows until he nodded, reluctantly but smiling. "Ok, then," she nodded as if to say the matter was settled. "You're just going to have to believe me."

"Ok," he laughed as he pulled her down into his arms. He cuddled her into his side and both fell silent for a few minutes as they watched TV. Finally, curiosity got the best of him and he asked. "So," he shifted a little so he could look down at where her head was resting on his chest. "If you don't like how I described the differences between Booth and myself, how would you describe them?"

"Ummm," she answered thoughtfully. "I guess, if I had to, I'd say that he doesn't have as many shadows in his eyes." That was true, even though the shadows in Jack's eyes had appeared less and less as he'd grown more confident in his newfound happiness, nothing could totally erase them. Sam was pretty sure the same was true with Booth but his eyes were far less haunted.

"That's good," he proclaimed. When she looked up at him with a curious expression, he explained. "It means that however much we have in common, he hasn't seen or done as much as I. And I'm glad for that. I wouldn't wish some of what I've been through on my worst enemy." He paused as he considered that he might make an exception if the enemy was Ba'al; that bastard had been responsible for some of those experiences, so it seemed only fair. "Why would I wish them on someone I think is a good man?"

Sam smiled her Carter smile that she saved just for him and reached up to kiss him.

"What was that for?" he asked, grinning as they finally came up for air.

"Just for being you," she told him, still grinning.

"Sweet," he beamed at her.

"I'm glad you and Booth are getting along so well," she commented some time later. "You know I love the guys and Vala and Janet, but I think it's good that we've made friends outside the SGC."

"Outside the SGC?" Jack asked both eyebrows raised high on his forehead. "Need I remind you just what we're working on with these new friends?"

"Yeah, ok," she shrugged. "So, it's not completely separate but it's separate enough."

"I guess," he agreed. "You really like Brennan, don't you?"

"Yeah," Sam smiled. "She might come off as a bit cold, detached and even too analytical, but she's really very nice and can be very sweet." At his skeptical look, she laughed and insisted. "No, really, she can. She had a rough childhood and that made her put up all sort of walls but once you get past them, you find a truly warm and kind person. We have a lot in common. I think, if Booth is who you'd have been if you'd left the Air Force earlier, Temperance is who I could have been if I'd never joined the Air Force in the first place."

"Really?" Jack asked, surprised and intrigued.

"Yeah," she nodded, thinking how without the military and the close relationships you developed being in it, she might have very well turned out as closed off as Brennan – well, as Brennan seemed to have been before Booth.

A couple of hours later, as they turned in for the night, Sam snuggled into Jack and asked him, "Talking about Charlie wasn't the only reason you were quiet tonight, was it?"

"No," was the simple answer as he tightened his arms around her.

"Things are about to happen, aren't they?"

"Yup," if Sam had for one moment thought that Jack had somehow changed into a talker, she'd have been sadly mistaken. Good thing Sam knew her husband well enough to not even consider that notion.

"Well," she sighed, "we knew something was bound to happen sooner or later." When he nodded but said nothing, she turned her face up to look at him. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure," he finally answered. "It's just . . ." he broke off and shook his head, frustrated. "Something feels . . . off."

"What?" she asked again.

"I don't know," he answered, sounding beyond frustrated.

"Well," she tried to reassured him, shifting closer and getting ready to fall asleep. "I'm sure it'll all work out. It always does."

"Yeah," he agreed, shutting his own eyes and also trying to fall asleep. But, if the tightening knot in his gut was any indication, he didn't really think it'd be quite that simple.


	14. Chapter 14

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're still not mine.

**A/N: **I am sooo sorry for the long delay in posting, life got a bit hectic. But, this time I can promise the updates will be much faster because I already have five, count them FIVE, chapters written and betaed!!! Yep, the next four chapters are all ready to go! I've never done that before but there's a whammy of an arc coming up and I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for longer than necessary. The cliffie in this chapter might just get me my first mob and I didn't want to take a couple of weeks before I could post again, so I decided to write through the resolution of the arc before posting. I'm not quite there yet (cause you know me, even five chapters isn't enough to resolve it!) but there's really no longer any doubt on how it'll be resolved plus, I just need to write one more chapter for it to be all done. I'll write it in the next few days and with any luck, I'll be done with it before I finished posting these five chapters. I'll post one new chapter every three days or so. Don't want to post them all at the same time, now do I? I want to thank everyone who's reviewed the last chapter, I think I replied to everyone, if I didn't, I'm very sorry but know that I really appreciate it! I also want to thank mendenbar for all her help with the more visible aspect of this chapter. As you might have noticed, I'm more comfortable writing conversation or description of how someone feels than writing descriptions of a scene. I'm working on it but it's an ongoing process and for this chapter, mendenbar was kind enough to punch it a little and make it that much more vivid. I also want to thank pup for all her help as always. I do have to warn you, angst is coming up!! So, far this fic and this series has been much more fluffy than anything esle, but in the next few chapters I sort of turn that around!!! Sorry Kerrie!!! Don't shoot me! I fix it all in the end!!!!

**Chapter 14**

"Hey, Bones," Booth said, rubbing his hands together as he entered the room that SG1 had commandeered as command center for the duration of the case. "You here?" He asked as he looked around to see if she was back from court yet. The whole team had had a court appearance for a previous case that they couldn't delay. Booth had been one of the first witnesses called and had left as soon as he was done. He hadn't waited for Brennan and the rest of the team as he usually did because there was still a lot of paperwork he had to take care of back at his office.

He found Daniel sitting at the table, hunched over his computer with Vala leaning on his shoulder and reading whatever was on the computer screen. Hodgins, who was back from court, was also sitting at the table going over his own reports. Mitchell was sitting on one of the couches that had somehow found their way into the room, with his injured leg sprawled across it, frowning as he and Jonas, who was sitting on a chair, compared some notes. Brennan was sitting by herself on the other couch; she too was reading something and frowning even as she spoke to the room at large.

"We agree then?" she asked.

"Well," Hodgins said with a shrug. "The particulates don't lie."

"And the names," Daniel put in, pushing his glasses up as he pushed some keyboard keys, "are in keeping with his style."

"They sure are," Mitchell snorted. "They're just what the arrogant bastard would choose."

Jack, who with Sam had come in after Booth, asked, "do you know what they're talking about?"

"Not really, sir," Booth answered, before turning and again addressing Brennan. "So, Bones, you want to tell us what's going on?"

Brennan turned around and smiled brilliantly when she saw Booth standing there. It seemed the occupants of the room had been so engrossed in whatever they were reading that they had failed to notice anyone entering the room as they all turned when Brennan did and were somewhat surprised to see Jack, Sam and Booth were there.

"Booth," she told him. "I didn't know you'd arrived."

"Just a few moments ago," Booth said. "You seem to be a bit distracted. You want to let us in on what's got you all so preoccupied?"

"We think we've found a lead," she informed him, the General and Sam.

"Great," Booth exclaimed. "What is it?"

"Cam, Angela and Zack are not back yet," Brennan pointed out. "I thought we'd wait for them."

"How long . . .?" Before Sam, who had noticed Jack hadn't liked the delay started to ask. Before she could finish the question, however, the missing trio walked in.

"Hello all," Angela said with a cheerful wave, looking around the room. "What's up?" she asked when she noticed the solemn looks everyone wore.

"They're here now," Jack said, speaking up for the first time. "Care to share with the class what you found?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Brennan nodded while Cam, Angela and Zack walked towards the table where Hodgins told them what was going on in a whisper.

"As you know," Brennan began, "since there's not much more we can learn from the bodies,"

"I thought you could always learn something new from a body," Booth couldn't help but interrupt her, with a grin.

"I can," she retorted, glaring at him. "But whatever I learn now won't be of any use to us in the case." Booth nodded and raised his hands as if in defeat, but he was still grinning. "In any case," she continued, turning to look at the general and ignoring Booth for the moment, "we decided that we might as well see if we could help with the research."

"You know," Hodgins added, "fresh eyes are always good – especially if they're scientific eyes. We could pick up similarities that others might miss."

"And did you?" Booth asked.

"Oh, did we ever!" Hodgins answered but looked at Brennan to continue.

"Like you said," Brennan told Booth, "looking for a common thread among the victims was getting us nowhere. So, we decided to see if we could find any links between the dead clones and the clones that the scans revealed had taken positions with Congress."

"And did you find any?" Booth asked, even as he wondered when she had acquired such a dramatic flair for telling the facts.

"Yes," Brennan nodded and smiled. "We found that they all belong to either charities or non-profit organizations."

"But that's not so unusual," Sam commented. "A lot of people volunteer for charities or non-profit organizations."

"Yes, but everyone that works for Congress?" Hodgins asked, snorting. "Those people usually preferred to take advantage of the less fortunate, not help them."

"Hodgins," Booth said in an exasperated tone of voice.

"Sorry," Hodgins apologized, though he didn't look that repentant. "Still, we thought the fact that they _all_ belong to one had to mean something."

"Actually," Mitchell spoke up. "We had already been looking into the charities; we also thought it was too much of a coincidence."

"And?" Jack asked, thinking that they were taking too much pleasure in drawing out the telling.

"And it turns out that they all belong to one of two corporations," Brennan answered.

"It wasn't easy finding that out," Vala commented. "It was buried beneath layers and layers of shell corporations."

"Yes," Mitchell nodded. "And even more interesting is the fact that both of those corporations ultimately belong to one – which was incorporated in the Caribbean."

"But even more interesting," Daniel said, with a grin, speaking up for the first time, "are the names of the corporations."

"Why?" Jack asked, looking at Daniel. "What are they named that's so interesting?"

"The intermediate corporations are called 'Elream' and 'Elham Ishpatim'. The parent corporation's called 'Malak Eloheem'."

"And what do they mean?" Jack asked as Booth and Sam frowned at the weird sounding words.

"They're a bastardization of the Canaan/Phoenicia words for 'God of Thunder', 'God of Justice' and 'King of Gods'," Daniel answered. "The names of the other companies follow the same theme – one's called 'Adoneye Chamin' which means 'Lord of the Heavens' another is called 'Rimmon' which means Thunderer, another Elion, meaning the Mightiest."

"Why is that so significant?" Booth wanted to know.

"Ba'al was a Canaan/Phoenicia god," Sam answered.

"And those are all the epithets he went by," Daniel added, nodding.

"Ah," Booth said. "Well, I'd say that's significant," he added.

"Yeah, it's significant," Jack frowned ferociously. "It's just like the egotistical bastard to flaunt who he is that way, thinking we'd never figure it out."

"Yeah," Mitchell nodded. "That's just what I said."

"Well, now we're finally getting somewhere," Booth declared. "So, what do we know about these companies and corporations?"

"Unfortunately," Daniel answered, "not much. Like Mitchell and Vala said, most of the information is hidden beneath layers and layers of subsidiaries and shell corporations that exist only on paper. But," he added with a grin, "we did manage to get a hold of a list of the properties they own in the DC Metropolitan area."

"Good," Jack nodded.

"There are a few that look like good possibilities to be his headquarters," Mitchell said. "And that's where the scientific eyes came in very handy."

"Yes," Hodgins agreed, smiling. "As you know, we've been trying to determine a specific area based on the particulates we found on the clone bodies. But while they all had some in common, none of them had all of the same particulates and individually, those particulates are too common to help us narrow the search. Getting that list of properties made it much easier. We just made a topographical profile of the areas surrounding each property and compared them to the particulates found in the clone bodies. We found that only one property had all the particulates."

"A warehouse in an abandoned marina on the Chesapeake," Daniel said before either Jack or Booth could ask. "About two hours from DC."

"It seems the perfect place for his hide out," Mitchell pointed out. "Not only are all the particulates present," and Mitchell would take the squints' word on that, "but it is isolated, strange comings and goings wouldn't raise too much suspicion. It's also not that far from the city."

"It does sound ideal," Jack agreed.

"I was thinking, sir," Mitchell told him, "the other properties should also be checked out. Maybe SG2, 4, 6 and 7 should check them out while SG1 checks the warehouse."

"That's a good idea," Jack nodded. "I talked to Landry last night and briefed him on what's going on; he said he'd have the teams standing by."

"Good," Mitchell said. "Then I'll call and tell him where to send them?" he asked and Jack nodded.

"Yes, it seems like we have a go," Jack said, giving the customary SGC word before a team goes off on a mission. "I'll contact the Odyssey and have them beam down the gear." Mitchell nodded back and took out his phone to contact the SGC. No one commented on the fact that an orbiting ship should already have the team's gear ready; just as no one had commented when SG1 and Booth had started wearing the black BDUs, the day after they'd sparred on Hodgins' estate. It seemed everyone had felt that something was about to happen.

While Mitchell and Jack were busy on the phone, Brennan got up and went to stand by Booth.

"Bones," he began but she shook her head and quieted him.

"You have to go," she told him. "I know. Just promise me you'll be careful." She asked.

"Always," he promised her.

"Dr. Brennan," Jack said once he was done talking with the Odyssey, "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to . . ."

"You want me to stay behind," she said before Jack could finish his sentence.

That wasn't exactly how Jack was going to phrase it; 'want' implied that Brennan had a choice in the matter when she didn't. But he decided it would be better for all concerned if he just nodded. "Yes."

"I don't like it," Brennan began, with a mulish face, prompting Booth to hiss, "Bones please." She shook her head at him and continued. "I don't like it," she repeated and Booth just closed his eyes while Jack frowned at her. "But," she added before Jack could say anything. "I understand the reasoning behind the request," and that was as far as she would go in conceding to stay behind.

Jack looked at her intently and seemed to understand that was as good as he was going to get. He nodded at her just as the white of the Asgard beam shone through the room, when it ended, their gear was left behind.

Booth squeezed Brennan's hand once more before walking past her to pick up his gear. Sam and Teal'c were close behind him.

"Jack," Sam said, a few moments later, in a questioning tone.

"Sam," Jack drawled in answer.

"Jack, why is there an extra set of gear here?" she asked him, turning to frown at him.

"Because, Carter," he informed her, "I'm going along. I have to." That response garnered a variety of different reactions.

"Jack," Sam said, this time in exasperation. While Angela and Vala shared a look, Daniel looked on thoughtfully and Brennan crossed her arms and frowned.

"Carter," he replied, patiently but firmly.

"I thought we talked about this," Sam said, as she put her hands on her hips.

"We have?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. Sam sighed; they hadn't really talked about it, not since he'd gone on the mission to rescue Janet. And even then, the conversation hadn't gone like she'd expected it. She'd known he was still going to go on missions, she just hadn't expected he'd want to go on this mission. She hadn't expected that there'd be another of her missions he'd want to be in on.

"Jack," she said again, shaking her head. "Why? Why do you _have_ to go? What's so different about this mission?"

"It's Ba'al, Sam," Jack said simply. "I have to be there." Of course he did; they might be finally capturing Ba'al, how could he _not_ be there?

"Yes, I know," she nodded. "But I'm not staying behind this time."

"No one's asking you to," Jack told her. "It's still your mission; I'm just along for the ride."

"Ok, then," Sam nodded and went back to putting on her gear. Jack turned to look at Booth to let him know that he really was just along for the ride. Booth looked back at him and gave him a nod to show he understood.

"How come he gets to go?" Brennan hissed at Booth, who had walked back to where she was standing.

"Because he's the general," Booth answered, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, he is," she agreed, all but pouting. "Shouldn't he be behind a desk or something?"

"If he were any other general," Booth shrugged. "But General O'Neill is not like other generals. Besides," he added, "he's got more experience than Mitchell and me put together. He'll be an asset."

She snorted and opened her mouth to reply but then closed it with a snap when she noticed he had started to don his gear. With every piece of equipment that he put on, he left the FBI agent, the man that hugged her whenever she felt down, the man that made her feel secure, cherished, and loved, behind, and became the Ranger, the man who was comfortable with just his gun for company while he waited for hours on end in a jungle or desert for the perfect time to hit his target. It was probably wrong of her, but there was something about his Ranger look that really got to her.

"Well," Daniel said as Jack and Vala reached for their gear. "Since Jack is going along, I might as well stay behind."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, looking at the archeologist.

"Yes," Daniel nodded. "There's still a lot to get through here," he said, motioning to the reams of papers spread around him on the table. "You don't need another body tagging along; I think I can accomplish more staying behind."

"Ok," Jack said, "as long as you're sure."

"I am," Daniel reiterated. "Vala, don't you . . .?"

"Oh, no, Darling," Vala said, shaking her head before Daniel even finished his sentence. "If you want to stay here and continue with the research, go ahead but I'm going. I've had more than enough of research to last me for quite a while. I need some action now."

Daniel just nodded; he'd known it had been a long shot to begin with.

When everyone that was going finished putting their gear on, they looked like soldiers going into battle – which in many ways was exactly what they were.

"He looks just yummy, doesn't he?" Angela asked Brennan as she put her arm around the anthropologist's shoulders as they saw the team gathered in the middle of the room in preparation for the beam out.

"Angela!" Brennan protested, shaking her head.

"What?" The forensic artist asked innocently. "You can't tell me you don't just want to jump him when he's in Ranger mode. He looks so dangerous and sexy." Brennan didn't bother responding; she just shook her head again and rolled her eyes. "Of course, he's not the only one that looks dangerous and sexy. For a man his age, the general looks mighty fine himself."

"Oh, Angela," Brennan said, grinning. "What am I going to do with you?"

Before Angela could answer that, Jack shut his phone with a snap and Sam looked at him worriedly.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Apparently," Jack answered with a grimace, "we can't beam over to the warehouse. That whole area is under a force field that prevents any beaming in or out."

"That's definitely Ba'al's hideout then," Daniel noted.

"Yes," Jack gave one nod. "I'm sure it is. But now we can't beam over," he repeated. "Unless we beam outside the perimeter of the field."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sam disagreed.

"Why?" Jack wanted to know.

"Because if Ba'al has gone to the trouble of setting up the force field," Sam explained, "who's to say he doesn't also have some sort of sensor set up to detect any beaming activity in the warehouse's vicinity. If we beam over, we run the risk of alerting him to our presence."

"She's right," Vala nodded. "That's just like something Ba'al would do."

"So, what do we do?" Jack asked.

"We could just drive over," Booth suggested, to what to him seemed the most logical and easiest solution.

"Yeah, I'll guess we have to," Jack acknowledged, though he didn't sound too pleased at the prospect. It occurred to him that maybe he'd gotten more than a little spoiled by all the alien technology he used on a daily basis.

"Wait a minute," Angela said, halting them as they turned for the door. "You can't go through the lab looking like that. I mean, I think you look great but you'll scare everyone half to death."

"She's right," Booth agreed. "We'll call too much attention to ourselves and what we're doing if we go out the front door looking like this. We'll take the side door," he decided and turned to Brennan. "Bones, could you and Angela please go and make sure there's no one between here and the side door?"

"Sure," Brennan answered and walked towards the door. Before getting there, she stopped by Booth's side and told him, "You'll be careful, right?"

"Yes, I will," he reassured her and leaned forward to give her a short kiss before she walked out the door. A few moments later, Angela motioned that the way was clear, and Booth, Jack, Teal'c, Vala and Sam left, leaving everyone staring at the doorway for a few moments before they went back to studying the mountain of papers they still had to get through.

"You ok?" Camille asked Mitchell as she sat down next to him. He had a folder opened on his lap but was still staring at the door.

"Yeah," Mitchell nodded. "It's just I wish I was going with them, you know?"

"Yeah," she answered. She didn't understand it but she did know he wished he was going with them. "It'll be okay, though. They'll be fine."

"Yeah, they're the best," Mitchell agreed. "And with Booth and General O'Neill along, they'll be okay." Camille nodded and asked him to tell her what he was reading. Distracted, he started to tell her what he was looking for.

-------------------

A little more than two hours later, Booth brought his SUV to a stop about a mile from the warehouse where they thought Ba'al was hiding. The whole area was made up of anonymous looking buildings. Their graying sides, broken, painted out windows and rusting ladders made each one totally nondescript. You could hide an army in a place like this and it would never be noticed. Booth felt sure Ba'al had known that when he'd chosen this particular location.

"I think we should continue on foot from here," he told Jack, who nodded. "We should also do a recon of the area before we even attempt to approach the warehouse."

"Agreed," Jack responded.

"Major Booth and I," Teal'c suggested, "should go on ahead and take care of any sentries we encounter."

"And get a feel for the place," Booth agreed. "General, if you, Colonel Carter and Vala would stay behind with the car?"

Jack looked at Sam and the two shared a look. Staying behind was not what either wanted but all of them going would defeat the purpose of the recon.

"Try not to take too long, Major," Jack told Booth, accepting the suggestion.

"No, sir," Booth nodded as he opened the door.

"And, T, try not to be seen," Jack added, turning to look at the big Jaffa. "I know you're a big man and all but . . ." Teal'c didn't bother to respond, just gave Jack the Jaffa version of the evil eye, making Jack grin.

Booth and Teal'c stopped by the back of the truck to get their P-90s, Teal'c having left his staff weapon behind as it was too big to use while on Earth. They spent a few seconds deciding who would go which way before they left to start the recon.

The marina had seen better times. Its buildings and wharfs neglected and allowed to rot. In the distance, Booth could see a few ships still tied to piers, covered with moss. The dank odor of mildew and the scent of decaying marine life were so strong that it reached all the way to the edge of the marina. Booth held back a sneeze as the overpowering smell reached him. He and Teal'c took advantage of the growing shadows around the warehouses the rays of the setting sun couldn't reach as they glided from one to the other silently.

Less than half an hour later, they were back at the SUV. They found Vala sitting on the open tailgate, feet dangling and swinging, Sam was standing close to her, chatting amiably but with her weapon strapped on and alertly looking around. Jack had his P-90 strapped on as well but he was standing at the front of the SUV on the look-out for any hostile activity.

"Sir," Booth said with a nod as the three men walked to the back of the SUV.

"What did you find?" Jack asked as Vala jumped off the tailgate, secured her own weapon and closed the back door.

"There were two sentries patrolling around the target warehouse," Booth began, "and another six scattered throughout the near-by warehouses. They've all been taken care of," Booth answered Jack's unasked question. "Now, we just have to hope that none of them will be contacted before we take care of the rest."

"Jaffa patrols only check in at the beginning and the ends of their rounds," Teal'c told them.

"Good," Booth said with a nod. "So, that won't be a problem. I also had a chance to do a thermal scan of the target warehouse," he went on, "the front is full of boxes and cartons. There's what appeared to be a barracks and an office to the back of the building. Four men seemed to be sparring, another four are sitting around a table, three were inside the barracks and another two are guarding what looks like some sort of machine, and one man sitting at the desk in the office."

"Thirteen men plus Ba'al," Jack mused. "I don't think we need to call for backup." He said as he looked around the group. Everyone shook their heads in agreement.

"We face worse odds than that all the time," Vala said with a shrug as her pig-tails swung back and forth.

"Yep," Jack agreed. "Well, let's go," he said, adjusting his cap. "And remember, leave Ba'al to me."

Everyone nodded and followed after the general. Despite the fact that Booth and Teal'c had taken care of the guards, they all kept to the shadows and moved silently towards the warehouse.

"Carter," Jack said, turning to Sam when they found a digital lock on the door. Sam took out a modified PDA from one of the many pockets of her Alice vest. A few moments later, the light turned green and Jack slowly pushed the door open just enough for all of them to slip through.

Booth was the last one through and silently closed the door behind him. When he turned around, he needed a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the warehouse. When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkened interior, he saw boxes and barrels, timbers and rotting fabric, cobwebs and dust filling the space before him. He could feel the vastness of the room even as he noticed how full it was.

With a few hands signals, they decided who would go which way. The general and Teal'c would go along either side while Booth would take the middle with Sam and Vala on either side. They crept along their appointed way silently, P-90 held at the ready and the light turned off so as to not alert the Jaffas up ahead.

The different height of the stacked boxes around them meant that they could only see how the others were doing sporadically. When they reached the end of the storage area, they stopped and took one last look at each other before they reached for their zats and as one stepped forward and starting zating everyone in sight.

The first couple of Jaffa fell immediately while the others reacted and reached for their weapons. The four that had been around the table, apparently playing some kind of card game, overturned it and crouched behind it while returning fire as the three that had been inside the barracks ran out to check what the commotion was about.

Jack had to quickly step behind a tower of stacked boxes when a shot got too close to him. He fired back and was able to put down the shooter. He straightened away from his hiding place and was about to step forward when he saw Ba'al stepping out of the office.

Ba'al stopped on the threshold of his office door and ran his gaze around the room, taking in the sight of most of his Jaffa unconscious or dead at once. His eyes then found Jack's, and for one fleeting moment, Jack saw rage and hatred reflected in their dark depths before Ba'al once again donned his customary smirk. Jack raised his hand to zat him, but before he could pull the trigger, Ba'al pushed a button on his wrist and beamed himself out.

"Crap," Jack muttered, as he brought his hand down. He took a few deep breaths to contain his anger at once again not capturing Ba'al before he looked around the room.

"I think that's all of them, sir," Booth was saying as he stepped closer to the Jaffas that had fallen by the upturned table. Jack turned towards to Booth to nod when he saw one supposedly unconscious Jaffa reach beneath him and come up with a gun.

"Look out!" Jack yelled and Booth turned with his weapon raised but he was too late. The Jaffa was able to get two shots out before Booth was able to discharge his weapon. That one shot was all Booth needed though and the Jaffa fell back sporting a new perfect bullet hole between his eyes. This time he stayed down.

"You okay?" Jack asked Booth starting to move towards him, thinking that maybe the shots had gone astray. Booth looked at him with wide eyes before slowly sinking to his knees and then falling face down onto the floor.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're still not mine.

**A/N: **Well, here it is; the next chapter. It didn't take too long, did it? Only a week, that's not too bad, is it? I do have the next few chaps done my plan was to post them every three to four days. I took a bit longer with this one because - well, because I kinda got busy. But if you guys wanted to get them faster you can always review and ask for it. Tell you what, I'll post the next chap in five days or as soon as I get ten reviews - whatever comes fast, what do you say? I'm not holding it hostage, I'm just providing you guys with an incentive!! :) Anyway, I do want to thank to everyone that took the time to review; to Pup for all her help and to BGWG who was nice enough to help with the science. As you know, I'm not a doctor and I didn't even take anatomy in college. All the info contained in this chapter is courtesy of yahoo and google and BGWG. Any mistakes are entirely my own but I do ask you to please suspend your disbelief for a little and take the info as it was meant. I had to make several assumptions and decisions so that the plot could go where I wanted it to. If those assumptions and decisions were wrong and you're a doctor or a scientist and can spot the mistakes, I apologize and again ask that you just take them for what they are. Ok, with that disclaimer, I give you chapter 15!! Enjoy!!!

**Chapter 15**

"Booth!" was heard simultaneously from three people as Jack, Sam and Vala rushed to the fallen Ranger. Sam and Vala reached him first and immediately started assessing the situation.

"He's got a pulse," Sam called out, sounding relieved.

"Yes," Vala nodded as she explored where he'd been shot. "But he's bleeding heavily. We need to get him to the SGC," she added looking up at Jack who had crunched down next to them.

"Here," he said, handing her the healing device. "See if you can help him." Vala took it and immediately starting using it as Sam shot him a questioning glance.

"I thought we'd need it," he shrugged before taping his radio to talk to the Odyssey. "Odyssey, beam us directly to the SGC infirmary."

"Sorry, sir," was the response a few seconds later, "we can't get a lock; the force field is still in place."

"Understood," he replied, looking at Sam, who was already standing up and moving towards the machine off to the side.

"How did Ba'al get out if the force field was still up?" Jack wanted to know.

"He probably had a way to by-pass it," Sam answered, with a shrug. "I seriously doubt he would have turned it off otherwise; it's not like him to not have an escape route ready."

Jack nodded while Vala grunted with the effort she was exerting.

"Sam," she said in an anxious voice. "You really need to hurry. He's in really bad shape."

"Just a few more seconds," she responded, forcing herself not to look back and to work at top speed. Fortunately, this was not the first time she'd had to hurriedly fix something while one of her team mates laid bleeding and dying not far off. Unfortunately, it never got any easier. "Do you think you can hold him?"

"If it only takes you a few more seconds," was the slow response. "He really needs Janet to take over."

"Odyssey," Jack called, having been reminded, "Beam Dr. Frazier from the Jeffersonian to the SGC as soon as you beam us there. And contact them ahead of time to let them know Major Booth is seriously injured."

"Yes, sir."

"O'Neill," Teal'c finally spoke up, after having checked that all the Jaffas were unconscious and/or dead. "I'll remain behind until SG 13 and 15 get here."

Jack nodded and once more contacted the Odyssey to set that up.

"Done!" Sam finally said with satisfaction before hurrying back to Booth's side.

"Odyssey," before Jack could even get the order out, the three of them disappeared in a blinding white flash – proving the Odyssey had only been waiting until the force field was down to get them out.

A few moments later they reappeared on the SGC infirmary.

"We need help here!" Sam was calling out but it was unnecessary. The Odyssey had called ahead as ordered and a number of nurses and orderlies were waiting for their arrival. They reached down and expertly lifted the comatose Booth. Vala, who hadn't stopped using the healing device, moved with the orderlies as they moved Booth to a bed.

Before Booth had been settled on the bed, another white flash signaled Janet's arrival.

"What . . .?" she started to ask as she looked around, surprised to suddenly find herself in a completely different room than she'd been standing in seconds before.

"Janet," Sam said urgently, from where she and Jack were at the foot of Booth's bed. "Booth's been shot." Before she even finished the sentence, Janet was moving towards the head of the bed.

"Status?" she asked, all business and Booth's vitals were called out. A nurse handed her a stethoscope and she leaned down to begin her examination, watching from the corner of her eye as Vala kept using the healing device.

"How long have you been using it?" she asked Vala, not looking at her.

"Since shortly after he was shot," Vala shrugged. "A few minutes." Janet frowned at how much effort it seemed to be taking the other woman to use the device when it should have taken much longer before it got so bad.

"Maybe you should stop," Janet suggested, nodding to give the nurses permission to start giving him blood and antibiotics.

"I can't," Vala shook her head. "If I stop he might . . ." Vala trailed off as she swayed.

"Vala," Janet insisted, "you need to stop."

"Janet's right," Sam said, walking up next to Vala and putting her hand on top of Vala's. "Go rest; I'll take over for now."

"You're not as skilled with it as I," Vala protested.

"I'm skilled enough," Sam argued and had to hold up Vala up as the other woman's knees buckled. "Let go, Vala, Janet's here and he's already getting more blood."

"Come on, Princess," Jack said, using Mitchell's nickname for her, "you need to rest." Jack took hold of Vala's shoulders and led her away while Sam put on the healing device and took Vala's place.

"Get her something to drink," Janet ordered before turning her full attention on Booth.

"Daniel," Vala murmured as Jack led her away.

"No, Princess," Jack said with a smile. "It's Jack."

"No," Vala corrected with a weak smile. "I meant I need to call Daniel. We have to let him and the others know what happened. They must be frantic by now."

"She's right, Jack," Sam agreed, without looking away from Booth. "You need to call them."

"All right," Jack agreed. "But you sit and drink," he pointed to Vala, who gave him a cheeky salute, before taking his cell phone out and walking towards the door to make the call.

----

"Hopefully," Mitchell was saying, as he ended telling Janet what had gone on in her absence, "we'll know something so . . ." he trailed off as a familiar white flash enveloped the doctor and whisked her away.

"What the . . .?" Hodgins asked as he turned to look at the white flash.

"Booth," Brennan breathed a few moments later and started to frantically look for her cell phone. "Something's happened to Booth."

"You don't know that, sweetie," Angela said, reassuringly.

"Janet's the CMO of the SGC," Brennan told her with a frown. "What other reason would they have to take her away, without any notice, but a medical emergency?"

"I don't know," Angela shrugged. "It could be a number of things, right?" She asked, looking at Mitchell, Daniel and Jonas for reassurance. But the three remaining members of SG1 were looking at each other knowingly.

"Well," Daniel said, after a few moments. "It might not be Booth that needs her help," was the closest he could come to reassurance because Brennan was right. Janet was the base's doctor and only a dire medical emergency would demand her being taken back so suddenly. The fact was it could be any one of the SG teams that had the emergency but experience had taught them that the direst emergencies were usually precipitated by SG1. And if it wasn't Booth that was injured, then it would either be Vala or one of Daniel's closest friends. Frankly, he wasn't in a good place to offer anyone any reassurances.

"He's not picking up his cell," Brennan said, having ignored the by-play and concentrated her efforts instead on reaching Booth.

"Of course not," Camille put in calmly. "They were going to a raid; I'm sure he turned off his cell so that it would not ring at an unfortunate moment and give them away."

"That's true, sweetie," Angela began to say but Daniel's phone went off at that moment and everyone fell silent as they turn to look at it.

"Dr. Jackson," Daniel said into the phone a few seconds later. "Jack," he greeted the other person but fell quiet and attentively listened to whatever it was that Jack was saying. He nodded a few times and started to ask a few questions but stopped as they were answered before he could finish them. "Ok," he said, nodding once more. "Yeah, just give me a few moments. See you later. Bye." He closed the phone and looked down at it for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and looking up.

"What is it?" Brennan asked. She had stood up and was standing directly in front of Daniel by that time. Angela, who had not liked the expression Daniel wore, had also stood up and was standing next to Brennan.

"There was a shoot out," Daniel began, "during the raid and Booth's been shot."

"How bad?" Brennan asked, crossing her arms tightly around herself while Angela put her arm around Brennan's shoulder and stifled her gasp. Daniel hesitated a moment before finally answering.

"Bad," he said with a sigh. "But Janet's already started treating him. No, I don't have any of the details," he added when he saw the question in Brennan's eyes.

"I want to go there," it wasn't a request.

"I know," Daniel nodded. "The Odyssey is ready to beam us over whenever you're ready."

"Good," Brennan said and straightened her shoulders. "I'm ready now."

"We're all ready," Angela said as Camille, Zack and Hodgins stood up and walked next to the two women.

Daniel opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it and simply nodded again. "Just let me tell them we're all going," he said instead. A few moments later, the white flash appeared again and when it left there was no one left in the room.

An intern entered a few seconds later, he had opened his mouth to speak but found that the room was empty. He looked around a few times and even turned in a circle before shutting his mouth and, with a shrug, left while he muttered, "weird."

-----

A few moments later, they all reappeared in the SGC infirmary. Brennan's eyes went unerringly to the bed were Booth was laying. Her eyes widened at the amount of blood on the rags around the bed and how pale he looked.

"Booth," she whispered and Angela tightened her arm that was still around Brennan's shoulders. Camille, Zack and Hodgins stood behind them all looking solemn and worried. Jonas and Teal'c, who had already come back from the warehouse, helped Mitchell as he hopped to and then leaned against a cart. Daniel, who'd seen a pale Vala sitting down, rushed to her side and asked her what was wrong.

"What happened?" Brennan finally asked. Jack, who was standing by the foot of Booth's bed, turned briefly to look at her before turning back to look at Booth.

"We were checking to see that the Jaffa were truly down," Jack began, his face tight and drawn. "Ba'al had just beamed out and Booth was checking a group of Jaffa when one of them brought out a gun from under him. Before we could react, he'd gotten two shots out."

"How is he?" Camille asked when Brennan just nodded and kept staring at Booth.

"Janet's still working on him," Jack answered with a minute shrug. "Sam," he called out as he moved around the bed and put his arms around her as her knees buckled. "I think you need to stop now."

Sam hesitated for a moment before she reluctantly nodded and took down her arm as the device went off. Jack tried to lead Sam to a chair but she stopped when she reached Brennan and wouldn't move any further. Before Jack could force the issue, Janet stepped back from Booth and, removing her gloves, walked towards the group waiting for news.

"How is he?" Brennan asked, anxiously. Janet frowned before answering.

"Not good," by her tone everyone could see that was an understatement. "The two bullets entered through his left side."

"How is that possible?" Brennan wanted to know. "Booth is always adamant about wearing his Kevlar vest."

"He was wearing it," Janet confirmed with a nod. "The bullets pierced through the Velcro stripes that hold the vest together on the sides. One must have ricocheted as two of his ribs are broken and another two are badly bruised. But that's the least of my worries," she said with a shake of her head. "Thanks to the ricocheting, the bullets took two different paths and managed to compromise most of his vital organs – despite the fact that they aren't all that close together. His liver and left kidney, as well as his pancreas and spleen have been perforated. And two hepatic veins plus his large intestine have been nicked." She paused and raked her fingers through her hair, trying her best to ignore the shocked faces.

"We're taking him into surgery right now," Janet finished.

"What are his chances?" Camille, understanding just how bad the situation was, asked tightly. Janet shook her head again and sighed.

"We've got the bleeding stopped," she answered. "I think that Vala and Sam actually managed to repair most of the damage done to the hepatic veins. He lost a lot of blood but we've already given him more. The damage to his liver is considerable but the liver is the only organ that can regenerate itself. We'd just need to give his body the chance to do it. The damage to his pancreas and spleen, however, are another matter. They're both heavily damaged. The pancreas has already released the digestive enzymes into the stomach and though I have him on antibiotics for possible infections and such, with the spleen compromised . . ." she trailed off.

"His chances, Janet," Brennan insisted.

"To survive the surgery," Janet finally answered, "about 15%." Brennan paled and swayed at the number while Angela strangled a soft cry. "The repairs to his intestine will be fairly easy but I'll have to remove about ¾ of his spleen and at least half his pancreas. Even if he survives the surgery, life as he's known it is over," was the somber prediction. "With most of his spleen and pancreas gone, he won't be able to resume the same level of physical activity as before. He won't be able to go back into the field and will be more at risk for infections and to develop diabetes. He'll have to be extra careful and monitored on a regular basis."

"He'll hate that," Brennan breathed.

"Yes, he will," Jack nodded. "So much restriction on his ability to act," he mused, shaking his head.

"Would drive him crazy," Brennan finished. "Isn't there anything else you can do?"

"He can be put on a transplant list," Janet answered, though she didn't sound too confident. "But he won't be high up on it and even if he were to get one, there's no guarantee that his body would accept the transplant and if it does, he'll have to take pills for the rest of his life. I'm sorry but there's not much I can do."

"No," Brennan denied, shaking her head. "I don't accept that. There has to be something you can do!" She insisted. "You have all this alien technology at your disposal. Can't . . . can't you," she began, wildly looking around for a possible solution. "Can't Sam and Vala keep healing with that device?" Janet was shaking her head before Brennan even finished the question.

"No," she answered. "The device is not that powerful. It needs a fully blended Tok'ra or a Goa'uld to harness its full power. As it is, neither Vala nor Sam are strong enough to use its full potential and the little they use, and whenever they do use it, it tires them out completely." She added, pointing at Sam and Vala, who were both pale and looked exhausted.

"What about the sarcophagus?" Brennan persisted.

"We don't have one," Janet shook her head, sadly.

"We've never had one," Jack added. "The potential for overuse and the consequences are too high."

"What about a symbiote?" Brennan asked, desperately.

"We don't have those, either," Janet answered, eyebrows raised in surprise. "We'd have to contact the Tok'ra and we don't have time for that."

"And I really don't think Booth would go for that," Jack pointed out.

"There has to be _something_," Brennan repeated.

"Thor's still in orbit, right?" Jack asked Sam, who nodded.

"You're thinking of asking him for help?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to help," Jack answered as he took the stone-like communication device. "Thor, buddy, you there?"

"I am here, O'Neill," was the prompt answer.

"Listen, buddy, we've got a bit of a problem here," Jack began explaining. "Do you think you could beam us up? One of my team members got shot and is in a bad way."

"Yes, I have been following the action, as you say," Thor responded.

"Can you help?" Jack wanted to know.

"Yes, I will beam up right now," Thor answered and Brennan exhaled in relief. But Janet was making gestures at Jack.

"Hold on a moment, buddy," Jack told Thor before addressing Janet. "What's wrong, doc? You don't think Thor can help?"

"It's not that," Janet denied. "He has more advanced technology than us; I'm sure he'll be able to come up with something. But if we're going to be beamed up, I need to prepare him first. Give me a minute before beaming us out." Jack nodded and told Thor to hold on a moment.

"I'm coming too," Brennan told Jack with a mutinous expression on her face.

"Yeah," Jack nodded, tiredly. "I wouldn't expect anything else."

"So are we," Vala, Sam, Angela and Camille all said at the same time, making both Jack and Daniel frown.

"You need to rest," Daniel told Vala, who shook her head and frowned at him.

"You need to rest too, Sam," Jack told his wife before turning to look at the squints. "I'll make sure you'll get updates of how he's doing," Before he could continue he was interrupted by Angela.

"With respect," she told him, not sounding all that respectful, "that's not good enough. We need to go," she insisted and Camille, Hodgins and Zack nodded.

"And we're going too," Sam insisted. When Jack opened his mouth to protest, she persisted, "Jack, he's part of our team and he was shot in front of us."

"We don't leave team members behind," Vala reminded him, getting up and moving closer to the group. "Besides, we can sit down and rest as well up there as down here." When Jack continued to glare, she added, "And we'll take some liquids too."

"Sir," Mitchell spoke up for the first time but Jack finished for him.

"I supposed you three want to go too," it wasn't really a question.

"Yes, sir," Mitchell, Jonas and Teal'c nodded.

"Anyone else?" Jack asked the room at large, somewhat sarcastically. "Let's just make a trip of this, shall we?" Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked closer to Booth's bed.

"You'll have to excuse Jack," Sam told Brennan and the others. "He's just . . ."

"Worried and scared," Angela finished for her, "and acting angry to cover it up."

"That's about it," Sam agreed.

"Don't worry about it," Angela waved it off. "We understand." Brennan nodded to show she too understood and for a minute was distracted from her worry because she did understand. And she took a moment to marvel how far she'd come in understanding others that she realized the motivation behind Jack's actions. But at that moment Janet gave the go ahead for the beam out and the next thing Brennan knew she was standing in one of the oddest rooms she'd ever been in.

It was mostly made of a blue/grey, metal-like material, though the far wall had panels of what looked to be a cross between foil and glass, and it was big. Although it might have felt bigger than it actually was since it was mostly empty; it had one pedestal-like machine and three beds, though the only reason she thought they were beds was because Booth was in one of them. They resembled more the cryonics capsules that she'd seen on a documentary than an infirmary bed.

The other squints were as impressed with their surrounding as Brennan was but the reality of why they were there promptly took away any joy they might have felt. SG1, having been on Thor's ship on a number of occasions before, did not find anything particular fascinating about it. They all stood behind Brennan and Angela, except for Sam and Jack who stood on the other side of Brennan. Camille stood next to Angela and Zack and Hodgins stood at the end of the semi-circle next to SG1.

They all stood, more or less in silence, watching as Janet consulted with Thor. Hodgins, who was finally meeting an Asgard or a little grey man, was the source of most of the whispers. If it had been any other time, he'd have been jumping up and down in excitement, as it was, he was so worried about Booth that he couldn't even enjoy the fact that he'd been right about the little grey men.

About half an hour later, Janet gave a final nod to Thor and walked to where everyone was waiting.

"Well?" Brennan asked. "Can he help Booth?"

"If I perform the surgery I was going to perform using Thor's technology," Janet answered, "Booth's chances of survival will increase dramatically."

"But his life after . . .?" Camille prompted.

"Will still have severe restrictions," Janet finished with a sad nod.

"You said 'if'?" Angela asked, "Does that mean there's another option?" Angela and Camille seemed to be asking the questions that Brennan was too distraught to ask.

"Yes," Janet nodded. "But keep in mind that it is completely experimental, actually, it's not even experimental. It's more like theoretical; a theory that we just came up with . . ."

"Doc!" Jack stopped her. "Can you get to the point?"

"I'm sorry," Janet apologized with a grimace. It was not like her to go on tangents. "The Asgards have perfected cloning technology . . ."

"You want to clone Booth?" Hodgins asked, incredulous.

"No," Janet shook her head. "Of course not. What we're proposing is to clone the damaged organs."

"Clone his organs?" Brennan repeated.

"Yes," Janet nodded. "Then we'd replace the damaged organs with the cloned ones. It would be like a transplant, which is a fairly common surgery. However, since we'd be using copies of his own organs, organs with identical DNA and same blood chemistry, his body won't reject the new organs and there will be no reason for him to take any pills."

"So, he'd be able to resume his normal life?" Brennan asked.

"Yes," Janet answered. "If the surgery goes well, he should make a full recovery. Of course, it will be a long recuperation. Even though we'll basically be using exact copies of his organs, his body has gone through major trauma and will need at least a few months to recover. He'll be on desk duty for the next few months and I'd like to keep an eye on him. In fact, it might be a good idea if I'm his doctor from now on." When Brennan exhaled and seemed to relax a bit, Janet felt compelled to reiterate, "You have to understand, though, there are no guarantees. This will be major surgery and a lot can happen."

"I know," Brennan nodded. "Will his chances be better with the other surgery?"

"Not really," Janet acknowledged. "Whatever course we choose comes with risks. But it turns out that he has the ATA gene," she added to the surprise of Jack and the rest of SG1 and the complete bafflement of Brennan and the squints. "That should make things easier."

"Why? What is an ATA gene? Why does he having it make things easier?" Brennan asked with a confused frown.

"It's . . . a long and complicated story," Janet answered, "suffice it to say that while we haven't really used Asgard technology for medical purposes too much, General O'Neill has used it more than once. Since he also has the gene and has reacted more than favorably to the technology, I think the fact that the Major also has the gene can only work in his favor. However, we need to make a decision about which surgery we're going to use. We really can't delay it much longer." She hesitated for a second before asking what she'd been wondering for a while, "I don't mean to be insensitive, but who's authorized to make the medical decisions for the Major? Do we need to contact a next of kin or . . .?" Before she could continue, Brennan interrupted her.

"I'm his medical proxy," she said firmly. "There's no need to contact anyone," though intellectually, she knew that Janet was doing her job, she couldn't help but be annoyed by the question.

"Okay," Janet nodded, sounding relieved. "Do you have a decision?" Brennan stood silent for a moment and then turned to Jack.

"Booth trusts you," she told him; after having gotten upset at Janet, she wasn't completely sure she could make the decision.

"Yes," he nodded. "He trusts you too." Brennan nodded back and just looked at him, not quite able to bring herself to ask what would he do. "I trust Janet and Thor with my life," he told her, answering her unasked question. "They've said it more than a few times. And the fact is," he added, because he knew Booth and he had a pretty good idea what the Ranger would want in this situation, "Booth would hate to be desk bound for the rest of his career."

"I know," Brennan agreed. Taking a deep breath, she told Janet, "go ahead with the cloning and transplant surgery."

"Alright," Janet said and turned to Jack. "Sir, Major Booth is going to need more blood. Since he has your same blood type, could you . . .?"

"Sure," Jack agreed. "However much you need."

"Not more than a pint, sir," Janet told him, "wouldn't want to take more than you can spare."

"Well, if you need more," Jack told her as she started the needle, "I have some blood in storage at the SGC, you can use that."

"Yes, sir," Janet nodded. "I'll have some beamed up." After she finished setting up the equipment for the transfusion, Janet turned to the others and told them, "the surgery is going to be very complicated and long. It might be better if you guys go wait in another room. I don't need the distractions and you don't need to observe the surgery."

"Daniel," Jack suggested, "why don't you show them to the bridge? You can wait there. I'll join you as soon as I'm done here." Daniel nodded and started to lead the squints away, as SG1 went on ahead. Brennan hesitated and Sam, after sharing a look with Jack, took over for Angela and placed her arm around Brennan's shoulders.

"Come on," she told Brennan. "It'll be okay. But Janet's right; you don't need to be here." A few moments later, Brennan nodded and allowed herself to be led away.

* * *

**A/N2:** One last thing, as both BG and Pup asked when they went over this chap, the whole ATA gene thing will be explained in more detail in the following chapter. I originally thought to do it here but it just didn't really work. So, be a little patient, all your questions will be answered; if they're not, let me know and I'll do my best to address them but I really think they will be. And once more, the whole percentage of Booth's chances were completely made up. I needed low numbers to give this chapter the intensity I wanted; I have no idea if they're anywhere near accurate so please just take it as it was meant.


	16. Chapter 16

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're still not mine.

**A/N: **Ok, this is the next chapter!!! Sorry about the slight delay but Christmas shopping and work got in the way! I know you are all waiting to see what happens with Booth but unfortunately that won't be resolved in this chapter and the promised ATA gene talk doesn't happen until next chapter. *shrugs* What can I say? This portion ended up being a lot longer than I thought it was going to be. But then, what else is new, right? :) I am sorry I haven't answered your reviews, again I got way busier than I was expecting I plan on going and answering them right now but just in case I don't get to all, please know how much each and every one of them means to me. Again, I have to thank pup and all you wonderful reviewers. Without much delay, I give you chapter 16, hope you like it!!

**Chapter 16**

A few moments later, SG1 and the squints entered the bridge of Thor's ship, through what seemed like a normal corridor. There had been no door, they just took a step and suddenly they were in a wider corridor than the one they'd been in before. It ended in a sort of alcove, the dome of which was glass that reached almost to the floor; in the middle of, but close to the glass, sat another of those pedestal things. The wall to the right side had the same foil/glass panels as the sickbay, which reflected the lights and made them look golden. The other wall had blue curved columns and half way down it, sat a throne like chair that had a console very similar to the ones on the pedestals, to the side there stood a large screen. The room seemed to widen behind the screen as the curved columns continued until they ran out of sight.

"Wow," Hodgins breathed, he was still worried about Booth, but the reality that he was standing inside an alien ship was finally sinking in. Especially when he noticed that he could see Earth slowly rotate outside the glass alcove. While SG1 barely gave it a second glance, the rest of the squints followed Hodgins to the alcove. Brennan tagged along since somewhere along the walk from the sickbay, Angela had once again placed her arm around Brennan's shoulders and she kind of pulled the anthropologist along.

Mitchell hopped towards the throne/chair and leaned against it to take some of his weight. Teal'c stood to one side while Daniel insisted that both Sam and Vala sit down along one wall to rest and to drink the Gatorade they'd brought along.

About fifteen minutes later, Jack walked in and found SG1 pretty much settled, while the squints seemed to be trying to explore the space. Brennan, however, hadn't moved from her spot in the glass alcove. She stood to one side, with her arms tight around her torso and stared, sightless, at Earth. He took a look around before moving to the throne/chair. Mitchell straightened up and said, "Sir," as soon as he saw Jack walk towards him.

"Mitchell," Jack nodded and, as Mitchell stepped away, Jack fiddled with the console and a few seconds later several white flashes went off around the room. When they cleared, several chairs and even a couple of loveseats appeared. One of the chairs, the closest to Mitchell, had a footrest; the injured Colonel grinned and happily hopped to it. With a relieved grunt he sat down and put his foot up; the reprieve was immediate, though he hadn't been standing too long, his ankle had started to throb.

"Sweetie," Angela said, walking back to Brennan as everyone else moved to take a seat, "why don't you come sit down?"

"Hmmm," Brennan said, distractedly and turned when Angela motioned behind them. She saw Daniel and Vala settling onto a love seat while Camille sat on the arm of Mitchell's chair. Zack and Hodgins were still walking around, exploring what they could of the ship. "I'm fine, Angela. You go sit down."

"Bren . . ."

"Ange," Brennan interrupted her before Angela could really get started. "I'm fine, really. Go sit," she paused for a minute and added with a small smile, "better yet, go and make Hodgins sit. I don't think General O'Neill is going to be too happy if he manages to break something."

Angela turned her head and saw that Jack's eyes were following Hodgins as her husband kept touching almost everything in sight. The general was starting to frown and Angela decided it might be time to interfere. "Ok, sweetie, I'll go but please stay positive, hmm? Everything will fine. And maybe you can sit down in a little bit?"

"Sure," Brennan nodded and turned back to study space. Angela hesitated for a second but decided she wasn't going to get anywhere with Brennan at that moment so, with a sigh, she went to prevent future injury to her husband.

When Jack saw that Angela had taken Hodgins back in hand, he turned his attention to Sam. She had moved to one of the chairs at Daniel's prompting; she looked tired and worried.

"Hey," he said, sitting down on the arm of her chair. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she answered with a small smile, looking up at him.

"Sam," he drawled, looking into her eyes.

"I'm okay, really," she replied. "I'm just a little tired. And worried," she admitted in a low voice.

"Booth'll be ok," he told her, trying to convince both her and himself. "Janet and Thor will make sure of that."

"Yes," Sam nodded. "I'm sure he'll be fine," she grinned briefly, as she added, "I mean, we've been through worse before, haven't we?"

"More than once," he agreed.

"Yeah," she nodded again. "I think I'm more worried about Temperance, though."

"About Dr. Brennan?" he asked, surprised. "Why? She looks ok to me," he added, as he turned to look at the aforementioned doctor.

"I think that's what has me so worried," was her answer, which to Jack made no sense. His confused frown was a clear indication that his wife had once again lost him. Sam smiled and went on to explain. "The man she loves is fighting for his life and yet, there she stands so . . . calmly."

"You want her to not be ok?" Jack asked her. "To not be calm?"

"No, of course not," Sam shook her head. "It's just that she has to be feeling scared and anxious and God knows what else but she's keeping it all bottled up and that's not good. She needs to let it out before it consumes her."

"I see," Jack nodded. "Well, you know it's not always easy talking about how you feel," Jack told her, looking towards Brennan too.

"I know," she agreed. "But sometimes you have to."

"Ah," Jack nodded again. He stayed quiet for a moment and then asked, "What did you do when I was hurt during Janet's rescue?" She snapped her head towards him and frowned.

"That's different," she told him.

"Of course," he concurred, sounding so agreeable that she frowned even harder in his direction.

"It was," she insisted and couldn't help the urge to defend herself. "Not only was it the first time since we got together that you had been hurt but I'd also just learned that you were still going on missions." He just continued to look at her because really, that wasn't any different from what Brennan was going through. With a sigh, she conceded, "ok, so that's not so different." She paused for a moment as she remembered that dark time.

"I went to my lab," she began again, slower this time, "because I really couldn't deal with all the sympathy and pity looks I would get. I love the guys," she added, "you know I do. But, while they've always been there for me and while I couldn't have gotten through the last ten years without them, I," she hesitated because she felt guilty even thinking it, much less speaking it out loud, "I couldn't have . . . dealt with them then. But when Vala came to see how I was doing, I talked to her."

"Why?" he wanted to know.

"Because," she answered caustically, before taking a deep breath, and repeating in a softer tone, "Because while the guys weren't able to help, Vala was. She wasn't uncomfortable, didn't feel responsible or guilty; she didn't feel the need to try and make me feel better and I didn't have to pretend that it was working so that _she'd_ feel better. She knew that there was nothing she could possibly tell me, that there were no empty platitudes she could give me that could make me feel any better." Sam paused as the emotions she felt back then came flooding back. She remembered how her world had been shaken at its foundation and how helpless she'd felt knowing that the only thing she could do was wait and see if it'd steady once again or if it would crumble beneath her feet.

"So, what did she do?" Jack asked softly, bringing Sam back.

"She followed my lead," was Sam's simple answer. "She asked me what I wanted and then did it. She sat with me and listened when I stared to vent; she didn't push or interrupt or contradict me. She just listened to me and when I was done, she told me what I needed to hear – not what she thought I wanted to hear or even what she might have wanted to say, but what I needed to hear."

"What did she say?" Jack asked, curious.

"Nothing I didn't already know," was the answer. "But just needed a little reminder of," she turned to look at him before saying, "whatever happens, being with you is more than worth it." They shared a tender look before Sam added, "and then she stayed with me to let me know that whatever happened I wouldn't be alone."

"She's a good friend," Jack noted.

"Yes, she is," Sam agreed.

"Don't you think Brennan would benefit from a friend being there for her too?" Jack asked.

"Of course," Sam nodded. "But you saw how she turned Angela away."

"Yes, but I don't think Ms. Montenegro is the right friend to talk to her," Jack pointed out.

"Well," Sam noted, "I don't think Vala's in any shape to conduct a heart to heart right now." They both turned to look at the former space pirate, who had her eyes closed and her head tilted against the back of the sofa. Her color was better than it had been earlier, but she still looked worn out.

"No," Jack agreed calmly. "She's not."

"Then what are you . . ." she trailed off when she realized what he was getting at. "Oh, you mean me."

"Yup," Jack nodded. "I mean you."

"What makes you think she'd listen to me when she wouldn't listen to Angela?" Sam asked. "Angela's been her best friend for years and I've only known her for less than a year."

"I don't know," Jack shrugged. "Why did you accept Vala's help and not the guys' when you'd known them for a lot longer?"

Sam opened her mouth and then closed it as she really thought about that question. Why had she felt more comfortable with Vala? Was it because she was a woman? That had never been an issue before and Sam rather thought it was more because the guys hadn't really known how to act since they'd never really been in her place before. True, both men had lost women they loved in the war with the Goa'uld but neither had been in a comparable situation.

"They really couldn't understand what I was going through," Sam finally answered. "Vala could."

"Exactly," Jack agreed. "I know Ms. Montenegro's been Brennan's friend for years but I doubt she has any understanding of what Brennan's going through right now. I don't see how she could."

Sam nodded as she thought about it. While Angela loved her husband and would be devastated if he were in Booth's place, the fact of the matter was that the chances of Hodgins being in Booth's place were infinitesimal. She really couldn't know what it meant to love a man that risked his life every day, whose career meant he was willing to put his life on the line if it meant saving others. Angela couldn't know what it felt like to be waiting to see if the man she loved would come out of the surgery alive or dead, all the while knowing that that would most probably not be the only time she'd be waiting to see if he lived or died. Angela couldn't know all that but Sam could, as Vala did; that was probably the real reason it had been easy to accept Vala's comfort while eschewing the guys.

It was ironic, but Sam thought that only someone who was used to being in control of things, or in Dr. Brennan's words someone with an alpha personality, could truly appreciate how it felt to realize that the only thing you could do was wait and see if the person you loved would live. And only someone who truly understood how powerless that felt would know that the only thing they could do for you was keep you company because anything else was just . . . meaningless.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Ok, I see what you mean." Sam looked at Brennan for a few seconds before giving a final nod and turning back to Jack. She leaned forward and gave Jack a quick kiss before getting up and walking towards where Brennan was standing.

"Hey," Sam said softly, as she came to stand next to Brennan in front of the bay of windows at the front of the ship's bridge. "How are you doing?" When Brennan turned to look at her, Sam grimaced and added, "I know, dumb question given the circumstances but . . ." she shrugged as she trailed off. After a few seconds pause, Brennan answered.

"Actually," she said, slowly. "I'm not sure how I'm doing. Part of me is completely numb and the other part is . . . anxious, nervous, scared – well, terrified. I can't even begin to imagine what my life would be like if he . . . doesn't make it. How can I possibly tell Parker if the worst happens? How do I . . .?" This time when she trailed off, she shook her head and took a deep breath, seemingly bracing herself. "I don't know if I can do this, Sam."

"Do what?" Sam asked, confused. "We can send you back to your lab, if you prefer to wait there." She offered, looking around and not really knowing what else to say; though she couldn't imagine leaving the building where Jack was being operated on.

"No, that's . . . that's not what I meant," Brennan shook her head and sighed in frustration. "I just don't think I can go through this again."

"Oh," Sam said, her eyes widening as she finally understood what Brennan was talking about. Her brows came down into a frown as she turned to look out the window. "Well, what's the alternative?" She finally asked and paused for a minute to see what Brennan would answer. When Brennan only tightened her arms around herself and kept her eyes fixed on the stars, Sam decided to answer her own question.

"I supposed you could break up with him," Sam proposed. "Though, you'd still work with him and would probably worry everyday about something happening to him and I sincerely doubt it'd hurt any less if something were to happen to him. Or," she went on when Brennan kept quiet, "I guess you could quit your job and move away. But how far would you have to go before you stopped worrying about him? How far before your heart no longer sped up every time the phone rang, worrying that it was someone with bad news? After all, no matter how fast or far you run, you can never out run yourself, can you? You always bring all your emotional baggage and issues with you," Sam paused again and when Brennan didn't say anything, she kept going. "You could also ask him to quit going out into the field. I don't think he'd do it but whether he does or not, the mere fact that you asked would slowly poison your relationship."

"I couldn't ask him to do that," Brennan protested almost before Sam finished speaking. "I . . ." she hesitated before admitting softly, "this is just hard – so hard."

"Yes, I know it's hard," Sam agreed. "I don't think anyone knows better than I how hard it can be." For a moment, she remembered all those times she'd had to wait while Jack fought for his life.

Brennan finally turned to look at Sam and for a moment all she wanted to do was to ask how could Sam possibly know how hard it was when her husband was a general that no longer went on missions? But then she remembered how fast and smoothly Jack had picked up his weapons and gear before going to the raid earlier in the day and how, when they first met he'd been carrying a gun even while wearing his dress uniform and when the two men had blown up he'd been one of the first to rush to the scene, leaving his secret service escort behind; as Sam had said that day, Jack was not like other generals, content to stay behind. Brennan looked into Sam's eyes and realized the other woman knew exactly how hard it was. Sam gave a half nod as if she knew exactly what Brennan had been thinking.

"It is hard," Sam said again, "but running away is not the answer. Trying to keep your distance from him won't make it any easier. That might have worked six months ago," she added, though she had her doubts about that as she remembered how frantic Brennan had been when Booth had stayed behind with Mitchell when SG1 had been off looking for Ba'al's hideout. "But it won't work now. That genie is out of the bottle and there's no putting it back. Going back to keeping him at an emotional distance won't solve anything."

"Then what will?" Brennan wanted to know.

"You can't go back," Sam repeated. "You can only go forward and live and enjoy every moment you have with him because you never know what's going to happen. Besides, are you really willing to miss out on all those special moments you could have with him: going to sleep in his arms every night and have his face be the first thing you see every morning; picking up the phone and finding out he's calling just to hear your voice or listening to him tell you he loves you and seeing that love reflected in his eyes; spending hours talking about nothing and everything just because you like talking to him or spending hours saying nothing at all because having him next to you is all you need; sharing your good news with him and laughing together whenever something amuses you or going to him and crying on his shoulder when you've had bad news or a rotten day and the only thing keeping you together are his arms around you; knowing that there's always someone out there that will always know where you are and what you're doing and is always thinking of you – all those and the other thousand and one moments that make up your lives together and that give your existence so much more meaning, are you really willing to do without them?"

When Brennan just looked at Sam with eyes that were swimming in tears and that reflected the conflict she was feeling, Sam sighed and softened her voice. "There's nothing worse than losing a loved one – except perhaps losing him before you've really had him or worse, having him and losing him through your own actions and then finding the only thing you have left are a bunch of 'what if' regrets. Don't do anything you'll regret later on, Temperance; regrets are not easy to live with. The past is done and tomorrow may never get here, all we have is the now and if you're lucky enough to have love and happiness in the now, grab it and don't let go. Whatever the future brings isn't what you have with him now worth it?"

Brennan gave a shaky nod before turning back to her study of the stars. Sam too turned to look at the stars and the two women stood in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Brennan broke it.

"Was it easier?" she asked.

"Was what easier?" Sam replied with a confused frown.

"Before you and Jack got together," Brennan explained. "Was the wait, whenever he was hurt, easier then?"

"In some ways," Sam answered slowly, and in a thoughtful voice, after a few seconds of consideration, "yes, it was easier. I didn't have to deal with sympathetic glances, abrupt silences when I entered a room, well meaning but tiring 'how are you's?' or people walking around and treating me as if I were made of glass. I could sit by his bed side and no one would think twice about it because I was just being the concerned subordinate. And the times he went missing, I could lose myself in my work trying to find a way to get him back because that was my job," she added, thinking of the time Jack had been stranded in Edora and on that moon with Maybourne. "When I pushed myself too hard, they would try to get me to slow down but as I was working to bring my commanding officer home there was no 'kid gloves' treatment. But most of all, I could hide behind my denial of what I felt and almost convince myself I didn't feel as if my world was ending." She paused for a moment and then admitted what she'd just begun to understand herself.

"But then, in other ways, I think it was harder," when Brennan turned to look at her in surprise, Sam shrugged and continued. "There was no one I could talk whenever my denial broke down and I was faced with the horrifying realization that the man I loved could very well die. No one I could go to that would understand what I felt; who would just sit with me and keep me company. I mean, the guys and I kept each other company but it wasn't the same. I didn't realize it then, but having someone just know what you're going through can be a great comfort. It's not that they could do anything," she added, shaking her head, "or even that I wanted to talk all that much, but just knowing that they knew how I felt and that I didn't have to pretend how scare I was or how hurt was . . . liberating. I didn't know it then, but the same thing that made it easier, other's lack of knowledge of my feelings, also made it harder- it was easier to deal with others but harder to deal with my own emotions."

"So," Brennan summarized, "it makes no difference?" She remembered that Jack had told her something similar six months ago.

"Very little," Sam answered. "The difference is only an illusion; you feel the same fear and worry, you just hide it beneath the denial. Sooner or later, however, it all breaks free."

Brennan thought it over for a few moments before she nodded and asked, "Do you regret waiting those eight years then?" She had asked Jack the same question when they first met and was curious to hear what Sam thought.

"No," was the simple and firm answer. "I don't. Everything we went through, every tear, argument, disappointment, everything led us to where we are right now. And I really like where we are, so why would I regret what brought us here? Besides, we weren't ready before," she added, shaking her head. "We were both too committed to our jobs at the SGC to ask for a transfer and we had too much respect for our uniforms to break the regs that blatantly." When Brennan looked at her with surprise, Sam laughed and said, "You think Jack's the kind to break all sorts of rules, don't you?" When Brennan nodded, Sam sighed and explained.

"He doesn't have a problem breaking rules but only when it's for a greater purpose, he would never break a rule just for his own personal gain. Neither would I," she added. "He's Air Force through and through and I was an Air Force brat; you can't really go against something that's such a big part of you. I'm glad and proud that we didn't break the regs; we wouldn't have been able to make such a relationship work. Not only would we have felt guilty and as if we were cheating, but we weren't ready emotionally either. We both had too many issues and ghosts from before to have made a go of a relationship." She paused for a minute and Brennan could tell she was thinking back on those eight years.

"There were many times when it would have been easy, very easy, to say to hell with the regs and give in. I can think of a half a dozen moments off hand and I know Jack can recall at least as many moments where it would not have just been easy but actually felt necessary to give in. But after the moment passed, what would we have had? No, we knew it wasn't right and I'm happy we waited until it was."

"How did you know when it was right, though?" Brennan wanted to know and Sam could tell Brennan was still fighting against the urge to run.

"I just did," Sam shrugged. "Just like you knew it was right six months ago." When Brennan grimaced, Sam continued. Sam could only hope that listening to her and Jack's story brought Brennan a measure of comfort; that seeing the parallels between their relationships showed her that it could be done. "I know we've only known each other a bit more than six months, but I think I've gotten to know you pretty good. I know we have a lot in common and I know that you wouldn't have taken that step six months ago if you hadn't been sure it was the right thing and the right time. You were sure of it then don't let the fear and worry you're feeling now change that. Fear and worry are never good advisors, Temperance, you know that."

"You're right," Brennan finally acknowledged. "I know you're right, it's just that . . ."

"That it's hard," Sam finished when Brennan trailed off. "I know. Loving someone is probably the hardest and most courageous thing we can do because loving someone means leaving yourself open and vulnerable to be hurt. And loving men like Booth and Jack is even harder. But I know you're not afraid of hard work when the end is worth it. And isn't loving Booth the most worth while thing you can do?"

"Yes," Brennan whispered, without really having to think about it.

"So, why let fear take it away from you?" Sam asked. A few seconds later she added, "and whatever happens, you have to know that you're not alone. You have your squints and now you have us. As Vala said earlier Booth's now a member of SG1 and we don't leave anyone behind – that includes our families; whether you like or not, you guys are now family," she told Brennan with a grin. "And we'll be here if you ever need anything."

"Thank you," Brennan said. "I really appreciate it but . . ."

"But you'd rather have Booth," Sam once again finished for her. "Of course you would. And I'm sure you will," when Brennan turned and gave Sam a look, Sam grinned and expanded, "I'm not giving you a generic 'everything will be fine' assurance, Temperance. I know what Janet and Thor can do because I've seen them do it time and time again. That's why I know Booth is in great hands and the odds are with him. Like I was telling Jack, we've been through worse situations than this many times before - and on a semi-regular basis too." Sam didn't mean to sound cavalier but she had been through a lot of similar situations and was convinced a more assured attitude would do more to help Brennan than anything else.

Brennan just shook her head because she was sure that was true. "I'm glad Booth is only an FBI agent," and to her surprise, Brennan meant it. Less than half an hour ago, she had been despairing of the job Booth had and now she was glad for it! Maybe the talk with Sam had been just what she needed. "Thanks," she told the blonde Colonel. "I really appreciate your coming to talk to me."

"Think nothing of it," Sam told her. "That's what friends are for." And as she noted Brennan relaxing and finally losing that ready to flight tenseness, Sam was glad she had followed Jack's advice and talked to Brennan. Now all they had to do was wait and hope everything worked out as they all wished.


	17. Chapter 17

**Aliens in the City**

**A/N: **Ok, so here it is. I'm sorry for the delay but the holidays and getting a cold played havoc with my plans; plus, I didn't think many people would be around to read. I want to thank everyone that reviewed, Sara, is this fast enough? :) Thanks to Pup for all her help also. I do finally explain what the ATA gene is all about, and do pay attention as it will play an important role in the sequel and you get a Booth update at the end!! Hope you enjoy!!!!

**Chapter 17**

Sam and Brennan stood side by side, staring at the stars, lost in their own thoughts for some time. When Brennan turned around to ask Sam how long did she think the surgery would take, she noticed that the Colonel wasn't looking too good. Sam was pale and slightly swaying. With a flash, Brennan remembered that Sam had used the hand held healing device to help Booth; that Janet had said it took a lot of energy and that both Jack and Daniel had wanted Sam and Vala to stay behind and rest.

Feeling guilty for being so self-absorbed she'd missed the signs her friend was exhausted, Brennan said, "Sam, maybe you should go sit down. You don't look too good."

"Don't worry," Sam said, waving aside Brennan's concern. "I'm fine."

Even Brennan could see that wasn't quite true but she could also see that Sam wouldn't go sit down if Brennan stayed behind. With an inner sigh at how stubborn everyone around her seemed to be, Brennan took Sam's arm and started leading the older woman back to the seats. "Why don't we both sit down?"

Sam nodded, satisfied to see Brennan was going to sit down too. As they neared where Jack was sitting, they saw that he had, apparently from nowhere, found a yo-yo and was entertaining himself playing with it. With a grin, Sam decided that he'd either beamed the yo-yo up or replicated one. When she finally sat down, Jack gave a small, relieved smile and Sam knew that if she'd taken any longer in coming back, he'd have gone to bring her back himself.

The room was silent, except for the murmurs of those sitting close together, until the curiosity got the better of Hodgins and he asked what had been on his mind since Janet mentioned it. "What's an ATA gene? And why is it so important that Booth has it?" His voice seemed overly loud in the otherwise silent room and everyone turned to stare at him. When he finished asking his questions, which all of the squints had wondered about, he and the rest of his team turned to look at Daniel. They had known SG1 long enough to know that if they wanted answers, Daniel was their best bet.

Daniel looked at the squints and then at Jack, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged, indicating Daniel could go ahead and answer the question. Pushing his eyeglasses up his nose, Daniel answered.

"The ATA or Ancient Technology Activation gene is a gene that allows those who have it to activate and operate Ancient technology."

"When you said Ancient," Hodgins commented, "I take it you don't mean old but . . ."

"But the race that built the Stargate," Daniel finished for him and the other man nodded.

"I thought anyone could operate the Gate," Angela put it, frowning in confusion.

"They can," Daniel nodded. "While the Gate is usually operated with a DHD, dial home device, we were able to adapt our computers to operate it and both the DHD and the computer can be operated by anyone. The gene is only needed for the technology that's more . . ."

"Advanced?" Hodgins guessed when Daniel hesitated.

"No, not quite," Daniel shook his head. "I think more sensitive would be a better description."

"More sensitive," Hodgins repeated. "I bet that means more powerful, deadlier and . . ." Whatever he was going to say he kept to himself when Jack shot him a glare that had made even Goa'ulds stop in their tracks.

"How common is this gene?" Angela asked, because by the way they were talking about it, she didn't think it could be all that common.

"We're not sure," Daniel admitted with a shrug. "But our best estimate is that less than 10% of the population has it." At the raised eyebrows, he continued. "That's a rough estimate, for obvious reasons we can't test the whole population or even a truly representative sample. That figure is based on the tests we've run on military personnel and the scientists that are a part of the Stargate program – both in the US and in those countries that know about it."

"Ok," Camille nodded. "I can see why it would be important enough to mention when you find out someone has it but why did Janet think that Booth having that gene would give him better odds in the surgery?"

"That was a bit of speculation on Janet's part," Sam answered and then hastened to explain when she saw the look on everyone's faces. "Speculation based on how others with the gene have reacted to similar conditions; but because only a few have the gene, our observations have been rather limited. I called it speculation because we haven't been able to run a proper study." Brennan and the rest of the squints nodded, accepting the explanation.

"And what did you learn from your observations?" Brennan asked.

"We learned that people that have the gene are significantly stronger – both physically and mentally. They also have greater stamina and endurance and have a higher pain threshold than just about anyone – they can endure a lot more pain for substantially longer periods of time," Sam answered. "They also heal at a much faster rate and seem to be able to survive, what on anyone else would be, fatal injuries, not to mention the fact that they can still fight with said injuries. In short, it takes a lot more to bring them down and even more to keep them down." There was a small silence as everyone absorbed what Sam had just said.

"Ok, I can see why that would give Booth better odds," Camille granted, in a somewhat awed voice.

"See Bren," Angela said, looking at the forensic anthropologist, "there's nothing to worry about. Booth'll be okay; he's Superman." There were a few chuckles and a lot of grins. Brennan nodded absently since she was busy remembering all the times Booth had been hurt and had beaten the odds. Maybe there was something to having that gene because God knew, Booth had had more than his share of close calls and had always managed to make it. That thought served to calm her down even more.

"I understand why Janet was excited about finding out that Booth has the gene," Angela was saying, sounding curious. "What I don't understand is why that little gray man,"

"Thor," Jack reminded her.

"Thor," Angela corrected herself with a small nod, "Why Thor was also excited about it." What had been meant as an innocent inquiry made quite an impact. Every member of SG1 and Jack quit smiling and turned to look at Angela with varying degrees of surprise on their faces.

"What makes you think he was surprised?" Daniel asked.

"I don't know for sure," Angela answered, beginning to doubt herself. "But it seemed to me that some of the results he was getting first startled him and then pleased him. I don't know if it's connected to Booth having the gene, but it made sense that was the reason."

"But how could you possibly have noticed if he was startled or pleased?" Daniel asked, perplexed. "I've known Thor for more than ten years and I can barely tell if he's feeling anything at all! None of us can."

"Jack can," Sam disagreed and had Daniel glaring at her. "What? He can." When Daniel turned a questioning look in Jack's direction, Jack shrugged.

"How could you tell?" He asked Angela, studying her intently.

"I'm an artist," she answered, shifting in her seat, not at all comfortable with such close scrutiny. "I observe people and often notice things others miss. So," she added, because by then she was more than curious. "Am I right?"

"Yes," Jack nodded. "You are. Thor _was_ excited to find out Booth has the gene."

"Why?" Now it was Brennan asking. And once again, everyone turned to look at Daniel, even though Jack had been the one to answer the question about Thor. Daniel again looked at Jack before answering and received a half nod, half shrug as an answer. With an inaudible sigh, Daniel answered.

"The Asgards are one of the oldest and most advanced races in the galaxy," he began in his lecture tone. "As is true with most sentient species, there came a time in their history when they started researching a way to prolong their lives past their natural lifespan. After what I presume was much research, they all but perfected the cloning process and developed the technology to download their consciousness from one body to the next or to a computer if they ever needed to store them."

"Damn," Hodgins sighed. "That's . . . amazing. They actually transfer their minds from one body to another?"

"Yes," Daniel answered.

"You said 'all but perfected'" Camille pointed out, the doctor in her coming out. "Does that mean that they solved the distortion problem?"

"No," Daniel shook his head as Angela asked, "What distortion problem?"

"As you know," Camille answered Angela and everyone else that looked puzzled by her question, "the cloning process is basically the identical reproduction of a body or organ. Now using that once, like they're doing for Booth is all very well and good, but you're going to run into problems if you keep doing it again and again. After all, you can only copy the original one time, every time after you're basically making a copy of a copy of a copy. If you copy something enough times, discrepancies are bound to start occurring, information is going to be deleted or read wrong, new things would appear – if what's being copied or cloned is a sentient being, there's bound to be some DNA mutation. Eventually, you'll end up with something vastly different than when you started."

"Like when you photo-copy the same page over and over again," Angela said, nodding her understanding. "By the 20th copy or so, the ink is blurry and you can barely read it."

"Exactly," Camille said, nodding before turning to Daniel. "They didn't solve it?" She asked Daniel again.

"No," Daniel shook his head. "They figured they had more than enough time to come up with the solution. After all, that's what the cloning was supposed to give them - almost unlimited time. But time finally caught up with them and they still haven't found it. Those DNA mutations you were talking about, they've been trying to solve them for the last few centuries now. Their ancestors actually looked a lot more like us than what they look like now. And they've been cloning themselves for so long now that they can no longer reproduce naturally."

"They can't reproduce?" Hodgins asked, shocked. "Does that mean they don't have sex?"

"No," Daniel answered. "There hasn't been a new Asgard born in . . . I don't know how many centuries now. And some of their best minds have had to be stored in computers because their bodies have degraded so much they can no longer sustain them. The Asgards are, in essence, a dying race."

"That sucks," Hodgins summarized what everyone was thinking. And then went on to ask what everyone was wondering. "But why would knowing that Booth has this gene please Thor?"

"Because the Asgards believe Humans hold the key to solving their problem," was the surprising answer. Seeing everyone's surprised and confused faces, Daniel went on. "For some reason, the Asgards are convinced that they can find the solution to their reproduction problem in our DNA. They have been 'visiting' us for some time and . . ."

"Visiting us?" Hodgins asked, interrupting Daniel. "You mean they've come to Earth before? So, all those abduction stories are real?" He questioned with a sort of maniacal gleam in his eyes.

"I don't think all of them are real," Daniel demurred. "But a surprising number of them probably are," he conceded, remembering all the interviews with abductees that he and Teal'c had conducted when Loki had abducted Jack and left a teenage clone behind as a replacement.

"I knew it!" Hodgins exclaimed. "I knew it! I knew the government . . ." but whatever he knew the government had done, no one found out as Jack gave a glare that had made more than one seasoned marine shake in his boots, and Hodgins was no marine – seasoned or otherwise.

"Anyway," Daniel went on once Hodgins subsided. "They have been 'visiting' us and 'examining' us," that sounded better than experimenting, "but they didn't think we had evolved enough to help them until they met Jack."

"The General?" Hodgins was still too intimidated by Jack to call him by his given name. "Why would meeting him change their minds?"

"Because according to them," Daniel answered with an ironic smile, "Jack represents the next step in Human evolution."

"And the gene is a sign the step's been taken?" Camille asked, after a moment's surprise, seeming to understand where this was going.

"Yes," Daniel nodded. "Because he has the gene and because of a few other indications, the Asgards are convinced that, while he's not the whole answer, he does represent an important step towards getting the answer."

"Is that why everyone's so keen on him having children?" Brennan asked; Booth had told her how amusing he found it that everyone, from an Alien to SG1 members, seemed to be waiting on tenterhooks for the general to have kids.

"Yes," Sam answered with a slight grimaced. "Thor's really excited about us having kids. He believes that any child Jack has will be one more step forward in our evolution and would be able to provide them with even more clues to solve their problem."

"Well, that's not why I want them to have kids," Vala commented with a sly smile. "I just want to see Jack besotted with his little girl and trying to keep up with her – she's sure to be as smart as Sam. Seeing them both try to stop her from taking everything apart in their house will be a hoot." While she chuckled at the mental image, Jack and Sam didn't seem to share her amusement.

"A child with Jack's genes and Sam's brain," Daniel mused, with a grin of his own. "Yeah, that'll be something to see alright." But all this talk about kids had made Brennan realize something.

"Parker," she said unexpectedly, looking at the General, suddenly worried. If the Asgards were so interested in people with this gene, and they've abducted people before, "is Parker in any danger?" She asked and had everyone looking at her in surprise - everyone but Jack, who had apparently already thought of it.

"Calm yourself, Dr. Brennan," Jack answered, calmly. "The Asgards are not in the habit of abducting children," when he saw this didn't really reassure he, he went on. "But I will be having a chat with Thor later and will make it very clear Parker is under my protection and no one's allowed to go near him."

"Thank you," Brennan said; she was sure that not even technologically advanced aliens dared to cross Jack when he looked at them like that.

"You said other indications," Hodgins told Daniel, going back to a point that bothered him. "Does that mean that the gene is not the only sign?"

"I don't think so," Daniel shrugged.

"So, what are the other indications?" Hodgins wanted to know.

"Just a few times over the years when Jack's . . . unique abilities helped resolved certain situations the Asgard hadn't been able to resolve on their own." Daniel wasn't trying to be intentionally vague; the fact was he didn't know the exact criteria the Asgard had used to determine Jack represented the next step in human evolution. He'd never asked them, he was pretty sure no one else had either, and the Asgard had certainly never volunteered that information.

"What situations . . .?" Hodgins started to ask but Jack cut him off before he could finish.

"That's classified information," Jack said in a tone of voice that said the matter was closed. Hodgins thought that was an arbitrary decision given the amount of classified information they'd already been given but, again, he was not going to challenge the general.

"The gene might not be the only indicator the next step's been taken," Sam thoughtfully added to the discussion, "but I'm fairly certain it is an essential one. A number of discoveries we've made over the years have led Janet and I to believe that we are not the first time that humans have evolved on Earth." With the exception of Jack, Daniel, Teal'c and Jonas, everyone looked surprised and confused at that revelation.

"What do you mean?" Camille asked.

"We're pretty sure that the Ancients were the first humans to evolve here on Earth more than a million years ago," she explained.

"We think it likely that that's why the Asgard are so sure we have or will have the solution to their problem," Daniel commented. "The Ancients were the most advanced race of their time and the Asgard are convinced they would know how to solve their genetic mutations. But the Ancients are no longer around while we are and if we are the . . . descendants of the Ancients then it makes sense that they think we'll have the solution – in time."

"Right," Sam nodded. "From what we've been able to learn, our physiology is very similar to that of the Ancients – before they ascended of course. The differences we found aren't ones that point to another species but rather those that natural evolution would bring. So," she concluded, "if we are on the same evolutionary path as the Ancients, the appearance of the gene would be a necessary one. And those . . . 'benefits' I mentioned before – we think they're the precursors to the abilities the more evolved Ancients developed, even before their ascension."

"What do you mean?" Angela asked, intrigued.

"For instance," Sam answered, as she shifted in her seat, "the way the gene bearers are able to survive fatal injuries and heal faster from them, that would seem to be a step further towards the self-healing abilities that the Ancients eventually developed. And the stronger physiology and mental discipline are also a few steps shy of what the Ancients evolved into."

"And only those with the genes appeared to have these . . . 'benefits'?" Hodgins asked.

"As far as we can determine, yes," Sam nodded. "Of course, not everyone has them at the same strength - just as the gene is not as strong in everyone."

"It isn't?" Camille asked, surprised.

"No," Sam answered. "For some reason, it's stronger in some people than in others."

"It's as if the gene is not quite at full strength yet," Daniel continued. "Most seem to have it at less than 50% while a few reach 70%. Only Jack and Sheppard have it at over 90% strength. And there appears to be a direct correlation between the strength of the gene and how strong the side-benefits are and between the strength of the gene and how much control over Ancient technology they have."

"Right," Sam nodded again. "Jack and Sheppard are able to control Ancient technology almost instinctively."

"From what I've heard," Daniel added, "controlling that technology takes an enormous amount of concentration and focus for everyone else. But Jack and Sheppard can control it easily, almost without thinking about it."

Jack looked from Sam to Daniel and back, wondering how on Earth either of them could possibly have any idea how it felt to control any of the Ancient gadgets. Easily would not be how he'd describe it; trying to think and function while your brain was re-written by an Ancient depository was not easy by anyone's definition. Though, he did have to admit, having an Ancient depository in your brain was not a normal occurrence – even by SGC standards. And he supposed, the first time using Ancient technology was the hardest and it had gotten progressively easier after that. He could see how it could become almost instinctive with enough use. He made a note to ask Sheppard if that was true; the other man had, after all, lived in an Ancient city for more than four years.

"Sheppard?" Camille asked.

"The military commander of Atlantis," Vala answered before anyone else could, which earned her a fierce glare from Jack and varying frowns from the rest of her team.

"Atlantis. . .?" Hodgins started to ask but Jack's bark of 'classified' stopped the question in its tracks.

"How strong is Booth's gene?" Brennan asked, she too would like to hear more about Atlantis but she understood about classified information and at the moment she was more concerned with information about Booth, anyway.

"It's as strong as Sheppard's and mine," Jack, who had asked when he'd had his blood drawn, answered. The answer reassured Brennan since the stronger the gene the greater the 'healing ability' and it drew speculative glances from the rest of SG1.

"The people that have the gene at more than 50%," Hodgins said, going back to the point that was still bothering him. "Are they all military personnel or are they scientists?"

"Most are military personnel," Sam answered in an almost apologetic tone of voice. "Though, there are a couple of scientists."

"Most of the scientists, however," Daniel expanded, with a faint frown, "seem to fall in the less than 50% range."

"Doesn't that just figure?" Hodgins grumbled, frowning and hunching down on his seat. "The next step in human evolution," he went on, oblivious to the fact that everyone was now staring at him, "and does it show up in the scientists, the greatest minds of the planet? No," he answered himself, shaking his head in disgust, "it shows up in flyboys, jarheads and glorified jocks!"

"Hodgins!!" Angela reprimanded him, looking nervously at Jack; afraid the general would take offense and smite her husband.

"What?" Hodgins asked petulantly. "It's the truth. It seems even nature prefers brawn over brains." Angela frowned at him and took a quick peek at Jack to see how he was reacting.

Jack wasn't in the least bothered by Hodgins' reaction. He was, in fact, smirking smugly and lounging back calmly. It wasn't the first time an egghead had reacted like that to the news that Jack represented the next step in Human evolution and they didn't. Even Sam and Daniel had made a couple of comments about it. He himself found it beyond ironic and was not above enjoying everyone else's reactions.

"Actually," Sam was saying, "I think it makes sense – from an evolutionary point of view." At the skeptical looks that comment brought from every scientist in the room, Sam grinned. She took a few seconds to enjoy their dumfounded expressions before explaining what she meant, "There is something to the 'survival of the fittest' theory."

"Darwin was referring to natural selection," Hodgins argued, "I don't think he . . ."

"I know," Sam agreed before Hodgins could get really started. "He was talking about some species evolving while others died out and not about the evolutionary process of just one species. But if you think about it, you'll see there is something to it. Not as it is usually used in popular culture but, as we all know, evolution is not a civilized process. It can be brutal and messy and not everyone survives it. Granted, most species that can reproduce survive, but the ability to reproduce alone is not a guarantee of survival – if it were, there wouldn't be so many endangered species or so many species that have died out."

"Most of the species that have died out," Zack said, speaking up for the first time, "and those that are endangered have done so almost as a direct result of what Humans have done – to the environment and to their populations."

"That's true," Sam conceded before sighing and shaking her head, "but we're getting off topic. What I meant was that these new 'side-benefits' that seem to come with the gene, there's no guarantee that whoever gets them would survive them. I mean, nature is incorporating new strands into our DNA. The Ancients may have had these abilities but there's no way of knowing how many died before they took and became commonplace. And _we_'ve never seen anything like it before; it's new information that is being written into our DNA and that's not an easy thing to accomplish. We actually have no idea how long this step has been in the making or how many natural abortions or babies born with problems have been the result of this next step."

"Sam's right," Camille said after a moment's pause. "There is a lot we still don't know about evolution or even our own biology; there are a lot of things that happen that we have no explanation for. Some of the miscarriages and 'special' births could very well be due to evolution trying to work things out. Doctors are fond of saying 'nature knows what it's doing'; but maybe, it needs a few tries to get it right."

"Exactly," Sam nodded. "And if that's true, doesn't it make sense that the strongest, most resilient of us have the gene?"

"I thought you said that their strength came from the gene," Angela asked, with a confused frown.

"I said," Sam corrected, "that those with the genes seem to be stronger and more resilient that those without it. And yes, we can attribute that to the gene but it could also be that they have the gene because they were stronger – they were able to survive while those weaker than them didn't. The truth is, we don't know," Sam concluded with a shake of her head. "We'll probably never know if the gene gives them the added strength or if the added strength made it possible for the gene to develop and, at this point, I doubt if it matters. What I meant to explain," she continued, "was that I don't think it's a coincidence that the people with the strongest genes are alpha males," she sent Brennan a half smile when she used the term.

"As Temperance knows," she went on, "alpha males are the leaders and protectors of their . . . 'packs'," this time the grin was shared by both Sam and Brennan. "They're the ones charged with making sure that those under their protection not only survive but thrive. They're stronger, more capable and have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility than the rest of their community. I really think it makes sense that the gene, which represents the next step in our evolution, shows up in men that have all those attributes – men that would do everything in their power to protect those they consider weaker than them."

"And men that are more likely to reproduce and pass on the gene," Brennan finished for Sam, who nodded. "It makes sense," Brennan agreed.

"I don't think that it means that nature prefers brawn over brains," Angela said, "I think that this is nature's way of ensuring that the brains are protected and allowed to flourish. You have to admit," she continued, looking directly at her husband, "that sometimes little things like personal safety are forgotten when the 'brains' get excited about an experiment." Hodgins looked a bit sheepish while the others, with the exception of Zack and Brennan, grinned.

"And is not like those with the gene aren't very smart themselves," Vala pointed out. "From what I've seen, they are very smart; they just like to pretend they aren't. And for some reason," she continued, looking mystified, "you people let them."

Before anyone could think of a retort to that, Janet walked in. Brennan jumped up from her seat and walked to where Janet was standing almost before anyone else noticed the entrance of the petite doctor.

"How is he?" Brennan asked tightly, as everyone else also got up and walked closer. Janet looked pale and tired but there was a satisfied gleam in her eyes that comforted Brennan even before the other woman spoke.

"He made it through the surgery just fine," Janet told them and Brennan could feel Angela's arm go around her shoulders. "The next few hours are crucial, of course," Janet continued. "I'll keep an eye on him to make sure that his body is accepting the new organs and not rejecting – if he does, then he'll be fine."

"What are the chances his body will reject the new organs?" Camille asked what Brennan was thinking but wasn't able to articulate because her all thoughts were in turmoil still.

"I can't be sure," Janet shrugged ruefully. "Though, I do think the chances are very good his body will completely accept them. We'll see how things go. But remember, even if his body accepts them with no problem, he still has a long recuperation process in front of him. He won't be able to just bounce back from this as if he's just had minor surgery."

"I know," Brennan said huskily. "I'll make sure he does everything you say," she promised and Angela felt a bit sorry for Booth; he was in for some tough loving. "Can I see him?" Brennan asked anxiously. She couldn't believe he was safe until she saw him with her own eyes.

"Sure," Janet nodded. "But he's asleep. I've induced a light coma to allow his body time to heal. He won't be waking up for a while."

"That's alright," Brennan said. "I just want to see him."

"You know the way, right?" Janet asked and Brennan nodded, already moving forward to the doorway. "Then go ahead," Janet continued but Brennan was almost out of the room by then. She was so preoccupied in her getting to Booth that she failed to notice that Thor was standing behind and to the side of Janet.

"O'Neill," Brennan could hear Thor say before she moved out of earshot, "how do you like the Jack O'Neill II?"


	18. Chapter 18

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're still not mine; I'm just borrowing them for a little bit so I can play with them and make them do whatever it is I want!!

**A/N: **I am sooo sorry it's taken me so long to post this chapter. As I've said before, it has been done for quite a long time now but life got in the way, as it often does. I am in the process of moving to Peru for a couple of years to do a post-grad study and well, getting everything done for the move is tiring and draining and the move itself is nerve-wrecking; as much as I'm looking forward to it, it's a big change and I think the stress has been more draining than the actual preparations. But I'm mostly done with all the preparations and should have the next two and a half weeks to relax and chill out until the next phase starts . . . that means that with a bit of luck, I'll be able to write and post faster. As always, your reviews will only encourage me, so please let me know what you think. I want to thank everyone that reviewed last chapter; I'm sorry I didn't reply to them but as I've just said, I've been quite busy. But, you guys have to know how much I appreciate and how much each and eveyr review means to me. Thanks also, as always, to Puppet for all her help. Well, that's it. Please read, enjoy and review!

**Chapter 18**

A few hours later, Brennan was seated next to Booth's bed/pod. She was holding his hand and running her fingers through his hair. She was tired and her eyes kept wanting to close but she was determined to stay awake until Booth opened his eyes.

Janet had been in to check on Booth every half hour and said everything looked good so far. She'd also told Brennan that she should try to rest for a while, as it would be hours before Booth awoke, but Brennan was nothing if not stubborn.

When Booth frowned lightly and minutely moved his head, Brennan at first thought that she was seeing what she wanted to see. But then, the frown became more pronounced and Booth emitted a small moan and she knew he was waking up.

"Booth?" she called softly, leaning closer to him. "Booth?" It took a few minutes, which felt like hours to Brennan, before Booth finally opened his very groggy eyes.

"Bones?" he asked in a rasp as his eyes moved until they found hers.

"Yes," she said, smiling and blinking back tears. "Yes, I'm here."

"What happened?" he asked, looking at her with eyes made heavy by the drugs in his system. "Where am I?"

"You were shot," she answered him. "Don't you remember?"

"Vaguely," he said, frowning as he tried to remember.

"Well, you were shot during the raid looking for Ba'al and his hideout," she explained. "As to where you are," she went on. "Well, you're in Thor's ship."

"Whose?" he asked, looking more than confuse.

"Thor," she repeated. "You know, the little gray alien Hodgins kept wanting to meet."

"Oh, him," Booth said but it was clear he still wasn't sure what Brennan was talking about. "I think I'm going back to sleep."

"Yes, go back to sleep," she told him, tenderly. "You'll heal faster if you do."

"'k," he mumbled. "You'll be here?"

"Yes, I'm not going anywhere," she vowed and with a sleepy smile, Booth went back to sleep. She kept caressing his face and brushing his hair another few moments as the tears she'd been holding back finally started to fall. She bit her lip to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape but gave up when the effort became too much.

With one hand still buried in his hair and the other holding tightly to one of his hands, Temperance Brennan laid her head on his shoulder and at last let loose all the fear and agony she'd been feeling in a torrent of tears and sobs. Only now that she knew he'd be fine, was she able to allow herself the healing release tears brought.

--

"Bren?" Brennan heard someone call from seemingly very far off. She didn't recognize the voice right away and didn't really want to wake up. She was in a nice warm place and had no desire to leave it just yet. But when the voice called again and something soft brushed her cheek and hair, she reluctantly opened her eyes. She blinked a few times and saw her best friend standing in front of her.

"You awake, sweetie?" Angela asked with a small smile.

"Yes," Brennan answered in a raspy voice. "I guess I am now," she continued after clearing her throat. She sat up straight on her chair and put her hands on her waist before stretching her back a little.

"Here," Angela said, handing Brennan a steaming cup, "I'd thought you'd want this."

"Thanks," Brennan eagerly accepted the cup, even as her gaze went back to the sleeping agent. "Do you know how Booth's doing?" She asked, apparently she'd been asleep for a few hours and she wanted to know if there'd been any changes in Booth's condition.

"Much better," Angela answered, as she leaned on the bed/pod and crossed her feet in front of her. "Janet's been coming to check on him every hour and she says there's no sign that his body is doing anything but completely accepting the new organs."

"Oh, that's great news," Brennan said, with a smile, as she moved her head and shoulders from side to side to work out some of the knots she'd acquired while sleeping in one of the most uncomfortable positions ever. When her muscles loosened a bit, she took a sip of her coffee.

"Yes it is," Angela agreed, with a smile of her own. "She also said that he's now in a natural sleep."

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "He woke up for a few seconds awhile ago," she went on. "He was groggy and had a bit of trouble remembering what had gone on but he was coherent and alert."

"Good," Angela replied. "Have you told Janet?"

"Ah," Brennan looked sheepish. "No, I . . . I think I feel asleep right after," she admitted as she nonchalantly tried to wipe her cheeks of any evidence of her earlier crying jag. It seemed she'd fallen asleep right after breaking down.

"Oh, well," Angela said, waving it off. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Like I said, he's doing as good as can be expected – maybe even a bit better."

"That's good," Brennan sighed and then noticed what Angela was wearing. "You've changed?"

"Yes," Angela shrugged. "After you came to sit with Booth and Janet assured us that, for the moment at least, he was out of the woods, the general insisted that we should all go home to rest."

"And you went?" Brennan asked, surprised. She hadn't wanted her friends to stay and spent an uncomfortable night but she also hadn't really thought they'd leave.

"Hardly," Angela scoffed. "No, we made it clear that we weren't going anywhere until Booth was up and about. But he had a point, so we compromised and went home for a couple hours to rest for a bit, take a shower and change. We made him promise that he'd beamed us up a couple of hours later or immediately if anything happened."

"He agreed?"

"Yes," Angela shrugged again. "It seems SG1 does not budge when one of them is injured, and you heard Vala and Sam, we're part of SG1 now. The general wasn't really surprised when no one wanted to leave, anyway."

"Did they leave?" Brennan asked, obviously referring to SG1.

"Janet stayed all night," Angela answered. "She wouldn't hear anything about leaving since she wanted to keep checking on Booth. The rest made the same compromise as we did – they left for a couple of hours and then came back. Of course, they stayed behind while we went and went when we came back. No one wanted to leave you guys alone."

Brennan nodded and found that information comforting; even though she hadn't really been aware of anyone but Booth, knowing they had been out there, that they had made sure she wouldn't be alone made her feel cared for and safe.

"Where's everyone now?" Brennan asked, after a few moments pause.

"Outside," was the answer.

"Shouldn't they be," Brennan began waving her hand around a bit, "doing something? You know about the case – Ba'al, the clones and national security?"

"Oh, we are," Angela assured her. "It turns out that Thor and Sam were finally able to access the database they got from Ba'al months ago. And since it has a lot of sensitive information, it was decided that this was the best place to go over it. Plus, they recovered a lot of information from his hideout that they have to swift through – not to mention all the research we were already doing, it just made sense to transfer all the information and go through it here."

Brennan nodded; it all sounded like a plausible excuse but she couldn't help thinking that that's just what it was – an excuse so that they could all stay close at hand. Once again, the notion that so many people cared about her and Booth enough to rearrange their lives, even if for a few days, was enough to give her a warm glow of contentment.

"So," she finally said, "everything's ok?"

"Yes, everything's fine," Angela once again assured her. "What I want to know is how are _you_ doing?"

"I'm fine," Brennan affirmed. Angela studied her closely for a few moments before she finally smiled and nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I do believe you are fine. I guess that talk with Sam helped you, huh?"

"Yes," Brennan stared to answer before she realized how it could sound. Angela was her best friend and when she had tried to help, Brennan had closed her out and insisted everything was fine and then she had turned around and received that help from someone else. "Angela," she began to explain, "It's not that I didn't want to talk with you; it's just that Sam . . ."

"That Sam understands what you're going through in a way that I really can't," Angela finished for Brennan wearing an understanding smile. "It's okay, Bren. I get it. You don't have to explain anything."

"I just don't want you to feel left out," Brennan told her, "or worse, ignored."

"I don't," Angela promised. "I'm just glad you had someone who you felt comfortable talking to that could help you." There was another small, comfortable silence as both women drank their coffee. "You know, I really admire you guys."

"What? Who guys?" Brennan asked, confused.

"You and Sam," Angela answered, as she laid one arm across her torso and leaned the elbow of her other arm on that hand. She held her cup of coffee on her raised hand, close to her mouth.

"Me and Sam?" Brennan repeated, still confused. "Why?"

"Because loving men like Booth and the general is not easy," Angela answered. "And yet you guys not only love them but you're making a go of your relationships. That takes a very special woman – a very strong woman," Angela continued, thoughtfully as she brought her cup of coffee to her lips. "I don't think I could do it," she added after taking a sip of coffee.

"Angela," Brennan protested, "you're a strong woman yourself."

"I guess," Angela agreed, with a shrug. "In a different way, maybe; and I know I'm nowhere as selfless as you guys are."

"You're one of the most selfless women I know!" Brennan argued, somewhat offended on her friend's behalf.

"Thanks, sweetie," Angela said, with a warm smile. "That's nice of you to say but when it comes to love, when it comes to being in love, I'm one of the most selfish persons there are. When I love someone, when I'm in love with him, I want to be center of his world; I want to be his first and second and third priority. I don't take it too well when he cares about other things more than he cares about me."

"That's . . . I don't think that's a very healthy attitude, Angela," Brennan said, with a small frown. Angela chuckled and shook her head.

"Maybe, I'm exaggerating," Angela conceded. "It's not like I take over their lives; I just like coming first, that's all." Angela sighed and took a sip of her coffee, before continuing, "Do you remember Kirk?"

"Sure," Brennan nodded, not sure where the artist was going.

"Part of the reason I didn't let the relationship last for more than three weeks a year," Angela told her slowly, as if feeling her way, "was because I knew that for those three weeks I was his one and only priority and I knew that I wouldn't be outside of those three weeks. And with Hodgins," she added, "I've always known I come first. He has his own interests and hobbies, just like I do, but at the end of the day, we always put each other first. I'm not saying you're not Booth's priority," she hastened to clarify, when she noted Brennan's frown, "because you are; it's just that with men like Booth and the general, you have to share that first priority spot and I'm just no good at sharing."

"Sharing?" Brennan asked, still frowning. "Angela, I _don't_ share Booth; he doesn't even look at other women . . ."

"Oh, sweetie," Angela interrupted, shaking her head vehemently. "I didn't mean it like that. Of course, Booth doesn't look at other women; he's a one woman man, it's not in his nature to cheat and he's so in love with you, he doesn't _notice_ other women. What I meant is that you share the number one priority with Parker, which is fine – Parker's his son and that's how it should be," Angela explained, as Brennan opened her mouth to argue. "But you also share that spot with his job. Booth's a workaholic, completely dedicated to his job."

"I don't mind that," Brennan shook her head. "I find that to be one of his most attractive qualities."

"Of course you do," Angela agreed with a smile. "Because you're a workaholic yourself and you're just as dedicated to your job as he is. The beauty of it is that you're both dedicated to your jobs for the same reason: you both have an innate need to protect those weaker than you; you need to find justice for the victims and put the criminals behind bars. You both need to defend those you perceive to be under your protection; after all, Booth's not the only alpha in our group. You both need to feel you've made a difference."

"But you make a difference too," Brennan pointed out. "In fact, Booth and I couldn't do our jobs without you and Hodgins and Camille and Zack."

"Maybe not," Angela shrugged. "But if it were not us, it would be someone else. The difference is we could do different jobs, you guys couldn't. You two share a calling. You might have different personalities, different experiences, different values, you might not always understand how you do the things you do but you almost always understand why you do them. You might have to explain the process to each other, but in the end, you're always headed in the same direction. You _get_ him, sweetie, in an almost instinctive level. For all your differences, you guys share the same basic drive to protect and serve. Sam and the general share that same drive too; they're both committed to something bigger than them and both are willing to sacrifice everything, including each other, for it. That's why you can have successful relationships with them and why I couldn't."

"I'm sure you're selling yourself short, Ange," Brennan insisted. "If you fell in love with a man like Booth, you'd make it work."

"I don't think so, Bren," Angela denied, shaking her head. When Brennan still didn't look convinced, she added, "do you know why I didn't make a move on Booth when we first started working together?"

"You thought about making a move on him?" Brennan asked, surprised and disturbed at the notion.

"Not seriously," Angela assured her, secretly amused at how fast Brennan became possessive. "I guess I noticed the spark between you two almost from the beginning and I wouldn't step on your territory. But I did toy with the idea of making a move in that small window before I fully noticed that spark. And the reason I didn't make it was because I knew it couldn't end well. Booth's a great guy and any woman would feel blessed to have him," Angela had to hide her grin behind her coffee cup at Brennan's intense frown. "But, I know me and I knew I wouldn't have been able to handle his job. Sooner or later, I would have started to nag him about it; I would have started to ask him to quit or transfer to a desk position. He wouldn't have done it and I'd have accused him that he didn't love me enough, that if he loved me he would want to make me happy and I'd end up resenting him and whatever I'd felt for him would have been tainted. And if he had given in to my demands, he would have ended up resenting me and our relationship would have been tainted anyway. I know myself well enough, Bren, to have stayed well away from that trap."

"I thought you were the one that said love conquers all," Brennan protested, even though the mere idea of Booth with Angela was enough to make her nauseous.

"Yes, but it can't do it alone," Angela told her. "You also need respect, trust communication and understanding and acceptance of the other. And I don't mean you have to understand every little thing about each other but you have to understand and accept each other on a basic level – you have to understand and accept that core that drives each of us. You and Booth have that, as do Sam and the general and Hodgins and I. Some people just fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle while others clash horrendously."

"You're not talking about soul mates, are you?" Brennan asked, her tone indicating her disdain of the idea.

"I know you don't believe in them, sweetie," Angela acknowledged. "But I happen to believe that some people are just meant to be together. You and Booth happen to be two of them."

"If we're meant to be together," Brennan started to argue, "then there's nothing for you to admire, is there?" She asked, a little sarcastically as she really didn't subscribe to the whole soul mates/fate/destiny school of thought. "I mean, it almost sounds as if we don't really have much choice in the matter."

"That's not true," Angela shook her head. "We always have a choice. We decide how we act, what we give and what we receive. I _do_ admire you and Sam because you choose to have relationships that you know are not going to be easy; you know you're strong enough and selfless enough to make it work and you . . ." Angela trailed off because Brennan was sadly shaking her head.

"Ah, Angela," she said, "I am not selfless." Angela opened her mouth to argue but something in Brennan's posture changed her mind. Instead, she paused to take another sip of her coffee before asking, "Ok, sweetie, what's going on?"

Brennan looked like she was going to deny there was anything wrong but at the last minute she changed her mind and decided to tell Angela what was bothering her.

"You remember when Janet told us the two types of surgery available and I had to make a decision?" she asked.

"Sure," Angela nodded.

"Well," Brennan said, taking a deep breath and looking down at her lap where her fingers were twisting the lid of the coffee cup. "For a few moments there, I was very tempted to tell her to perform the conventional surgery." After finally saying it out loud, she looked up at Angela with a miserable look on her face. "Don't you see Angela? I'm anything but selfless. I might have never asked Booth to quit his job but I almost did something much worse and took the decision completely out of his hands! I know how much being a field officer means to him; I know how much he enjoys going to the park with Parker and playing with him! And, just because I don't think I could go through all this again," she said, waving her hand to encompass the infirmary room and a bedridden Booth, "I almost disregarded all of that and made a decision I _know_ he'd never have made for himself; a decision I _know_ he'd have hated and would have an almost impossible time dealing with. You think I'm selfless?" she asked Angela, almost on the edge of tears. "I'm as far from being selfless as you can get."

"Oh, sweetie," Angela murmured, as she moved to sit on the arm of Brennan's chair and put her arm around her best friend's shoulders and gave her a tight one arm hug. "That you were tempted to make a decision Booth wouldn't have liked doesn't mean you're selfish, Bren, it simply means you're human." When Brennan looked up at her, Angela grinned and added, "Yes, whether you like it or not, you're human and as fallible as the rest of us mere mortals."

"Angela," Brennan protested, and Angela was happy to see she was no longer frowning. "I don't think I'm infallible or immortal for that matter."

"No," Angela agreed, "but you do have a tendency to almost always be right; what's more, you've come to expect to almost always be right and when you're not – well, let's just say you're a lot harder on yourself than you need to be. Like now, you're beating yourself because you had a normal reaction. You'd have had to be a Vulcan to not have even thought . . ."

"I'm sorry," Brennan interrupted the artist, "a Vulcan? I don't know what that means."

"Vulcans are a fictional race from the series Star Trek," Angela explained, "their whole culture is based on logic; all their decisions and actions are based on rational, logical arguments. They have emotions but they're firmly subdued under all that logic. Only a Vulcan, or someone that has completely buried their feelings and relies only on logic wouldn't have been tempted to choose the option that would guarantee their loved ones safety. The important thing, Bren, is not what you were tempted to do but what you actually did. Anyone in your position would have been tempted, not everyone would have made the right decision – the decision they knew their loved one would want."

"You think so?" Brennan asked, still not completely convinced.

"I know so," Angela asserted. "Being protective of the one you love and not wanting to see him injured is natural. Booth's the same way with you, isn't he?" Brennan nodded and Angela went on, "I'm sure if he'd been in your shoes, he'd also been tempted to ensure you wouldn't put yourself in danger again. And I'm also sure, in the end, he'd have chosen the same as you because he too would have known that, no matter how much better he'd have felt knowing you were safe, you would have found it very hard to adjust to your new circumstances. In the end, Bren, both you and he would choose what you know would make each other happy, regardless of how that makes you feel. And _that's_ being selfless. You know how they said having courage doesn't mean you don't feel fear but rather that you act despite feeling it?" When Brennan nodded, Angela continued, "well, I think being selfless doesn't mean that you don't experience the impulse to being selfish but rather that you act contrary to that impulse."

"I guess," Brennan said slowly, "that makes sense." Angela nodded and smiled and the two friends lapsed into a comfortable silence as they finished their coffee. After a few minutes, Angela got up and walked a few feet away to pick up a duffle bag.

"Here," she said, handing the bag to Brennan, "Before I came back, I asked the general to beam me to your place. I figured you'd want a few of your things so that you could freshen up a bit. Why don't you go do that now? I'll stay with Booth until you come back."

"Thanks," Brennan said, accepting the bag and opening it to find everything she needed. "I would love a shower and a change of clothes."

"That's what I thought," Angela said. "You've been to the bathroom here, right?"

"Yes," Brennan answered. "Though I can't quite figure out why little grey men need a human bathroom – at least not a human sized bathroom," Brennan commented, looking puzzled.

"I know what you mean," Angela agreed with a grin. "The facilities are a little big for them, aren't they?" The two shared a quiet chuckle at that. "I don't think they actually use it, though, I think it's more likely that they've had it built for when they have human guests."

"You think?" Brennan asked, intrigued. "But to build such a complete bathroom would mean that they'd expect to have human guests on a semi regular basis, at least."

"Well," Angela shrugged. "It wouldn't surprise me if that's exactly what they expected. I mean, you do know what this ship is called, right?" When Brennan looked at her blankly, Angela provided the name. "The Jack O'Neill II."

"Oh, that's right," Brennan nodded. "I think I heard something like that last night. Why II, do you know?"

"Apparently," Angela told her, with a grin, "Sam destroyed the first one."

"Destroyed?"

"I don't know the details," Angela said. "At least not yet, but I think it must have been during some battle or other."

"I'm sure you're right," Brennan agreed. "I mean, I don't think Samantha would have destroyed it just for the hell of it."

"Oh, I don't know," Angela grinned widely. "Seems to me that girl has an affinity for blowing things up. Have you heard the story of when she blew up a sun?"

"No," Brennan shook her head slowly. "Blew up a sun? I think I might have heard a few references to something like that, but I never took it literally." Booth's repeated lectures about how not everything was meant literally had began to stick and that was one time, she'd been fairly sure no one was speaking literally. With a silent smirk, she made a mental note to tell Booth about it and rub it in that her way of thinking was right while his was wrong.

"Oh, no," Angela was saying. "They meant it literally. I don't have all the details because it happened before Vala's times but Sam literally blew up a sun."

"Ok," Brennan said slowly, "I guess I have to agree with you then, she does like blowing things up. Funny, I thought of the two, Jack was the one that liked explosions."

"I'm sure he does too," Angela agreed. "Guess that's why they're such a perfect couple, huh?" The two shared another chuckle before Angela shooed Brennan out of the infirmary. "Go, take a shower!" When Brennan hesitated and looked back at Booth, Angela promised her, "I'll be right here until you come back. But don't worry I doubt he'll wake up before you get back."

"Yes, you're probably right," Brennan said.

"And when you come back," Angela told her, "I'll go and bring you some food. We've ordered some Italian from that restaurant you and Booth liked so much."

"How'd you do that?" Brennan asked, curious.

"Easy," Angela shrugged. "The general had Thor do something with his computer and was then able to use his cell phone, so we called in the order."

"And how is it going to get here?"

"Hodgins called home and Ben," referring to their butler, "will take delivery of it and then call him back and Hodgins will go down and pick it up." Brennan nodded but she was already thinking of something else.

"So, do you think," she began, "that Jack could do the same with my cell phone?"

"I don't see why not," Angela shrugged. "Why?"

"I need to call Parker," Brennan explained. "He and Booth speak every night and I'm sure he must be wondering why his dad didn't call him last night. I want to call him and explain but I wanted to wait until I knew Booth was going to be alright before I talked to him. Plus, I didn't want to leave until Booth woke up, but if I can call from here then …" she trailed off and looked from Booth to Angela, who moved closer and hugged Brennan once more.

"I'm sure the general will fix it so that you can call Parker," the artist predicted. "But for now, go take your shower. You'll feel better after."

"You're right," Brennan said, slinging the bag over her shoulder and moving towards the doorway. "Angela," she said before crossing the threshold, when the artist turned to look at her, she said, "thanks, for everything."

"That's what friends are for, Bren. You'd do the same for me," Angela told her and Brennan nodded before walking out, after one last look at a sleeping Booth. Angela sat down and studied the resting agent, marveling at how much her best friend had changed since he'd entered her life. Angela was just glad that he would still be a part of Brennan's life because Angela did not want to even contemplate how Brennan would change if he were no longer around.


	19. Chapter 19

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine

**A/N: **My apologies for taking so long in getting this out. I know I promised to try and resolve this arc before I stopped posting in a regular basis but RL decided to raise its ugly head again. The whole moving to South America turned out to be more stressful than I had anticipated - turns out leaving behind most of what you know for something you barely remember is not that easy. Anyway, this chapter was done for a while but my beta had RL issues of her own to deal with and when she finally got it done, I just didn't have the time to post. But here it is!!! For those that like my Points series over in the Bones fandom, a new one shot is just around the corner; I'll post it as soon as my beta is done with it. I've also just started working on the Atlantis fic I started about three years ago. So, as you can see, I'm back!!!! Now, if RL and musie decide to keep cooperating, I can maybe finish this fic, the Atlantis one, the Points one shot and maybe start on that Ent fic I keep meaning to write. Ambitious, arent I? Well, let's see if RL and musie decide to cooperate. Thanks to everyone that reviewed last chapter. Your encouragement and nice words really mean the world to me. Forgive me if I didn't respond but like I said, I've been tied up. Well, enough of my rambling, let's get on with the fic!!!

**Chapter 19**

"Oh, good," Angela said, as she entered the bridge, a little over half an hour later. "The food's here."

"Yup," Hodgins nodded. "Got here a little bit ago."

"Nice," Angela replied as she sat down next to her husband and then leaned forward to pick up her order.

"How's Dr. Brennan doing?" Camille asked as Angela leaned back.

"She's okay," Angela answered. "She's calmer; she was able to sleep a few hours and I got her to take a shower. She also admitted she's hungry so," she hesitated as she looked at the bag that contained Brennan's order. "I should probably take her food in right now so that it doesn't get cold," she said, sighing. She wanted Brennan to eat but she was hungry too.

"Stay," Jack said, waving her down when she made to get up. "I'll go."

"But your food," Angela started to protest.

"I'm almost done," he told her, leaning forward and putting down his plate before picking up Brennan's order. "You should stay and eat," it was an order, couched in a suggestion.

"I . . ." Angela started to say but Jack just waved any further objection off. "Thank you," she murmured as he walked away from the group. "He's a very kind man," she commented as she watched him leave the bridge.

"Yes, he is," Sam agreed while Daniel snorted.

"Just don't let Jack hear you say that," he said with a grin, "Wouldn't be good for his kick ass, tough General reputation."

"Don't worry," Angela assured him. "I won't say it out loud where he can hear." Everyone chuckled at that before going back to their food.

"You okay, babe?" Hodgins asked a few minutes later when he noticed that Angela had been pushing her food around more than eating it.

"Yes," Angela nodded but when Hodgins just stared steadily at her, she sighed and caved. "I'm just a little . . . worried, I guess."

"We all are," Hodgins admitted. "But I'm sure Booth'll be fine; I mean, he not only made it through the surgery but Janet says he continues to hold his own. And you yourself said Dr. B is doing well. They'll be fine."

"Yes, you're right," she agreed with him, nodding. "Of course, you're right. They'll be fine," She smiled at him and turned her attention back to her food. Booth and Brennan will be fine; in time, they will all be fine but it would be a long time before she forgot the sight of Booth lying so still and pale, hooked up to all kinds of machines or the image of Brennan's tear streaked and red-eyed face. Both were always so strong, capable and full of life than seeing them so vulnerable and still wasn't something Angela could easily forget.

---

"Doctor Brennan," Jack said as he walked into the sickbay.

"General," Brennan said, turning to look at him in surprise. "Is everything ok?" She asked, as she made to stand up.

"Everything's fine," he answered, waving for her to stay seated. "I was just bringing your food."

"Thank you," she replied, accepting the containers the general was holding out. "But it wasn't necessary for you to come over here; I would have come and pick it up myself."

"Nah, it wasn't any trouble," he shrugged. "I was done eating already and I know you wouldn't have wanted to leave his side."

"No, I wouldn't," she agreed before repeating, "thank you."

"Not a problem," he shrugged again before turning to look at Booth once again. "So, how's he doing?"

"Better," she answered, setting the containers on her lap and turning to once again study Booth. "He woke up for a few seconds a few hours ago. He was somewhat disoriented but it's a good sign."

"Doc says he's sleeping naturally now," he commented.

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "That's a good sign too," she added, and Jack had the feeling she was trying to convince herself as well as him.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "He's strong, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Of course he will," she said firmly and if will power alone was enough to make anyone better, Booth would already be out of danger.

"He's a good man," Jack commented after a few moments of silence, during which she had cradled the containers but had yet to open them.

"The best I've ever known," was her quiet response.

"He's also a great soldier," Jack continued. "You don't like hearing that," he told her when she stiffened. She opened her mouth to denied deny but when she saw the knowing way he was looking at her, she sighed and shook her head.

"No, I don't," she finally admitted.

"I guess hearing it scares the crap out of you," he said, startling her with the blunt talk. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, wondering what he was doing. God knew he wasn't an introspective man, he rarely, if ever, talked about his own feelings let alone those of other people but there was something about Booth and Brennan that pulled at him and made him share. It was probably the fact that their relationship reminded him of his and Sam's relationship, the fact that he and Booth were, as Sam would say, two peas in a pod and Sam and Brennan had that whole scientist genius thing in common. But it was more than that, as much as he and Booth shared similar military pasts, Jack saw something in Brennan that he recognized.

They both lost loved ones and knew the pain that came with being the one left behind and they had both had chosen to deal with it in the same way, by retreating from their emotions. She'd chosen to take refuge in science, rationalizing away any emotion she might have felt and he'd hidden behind sarcasm, repressing and flat out denying anything that resembled emotions. It had taken two extraordinarily strong-willed persons to break through their barriers. It had taken Brennan a lot less time than it had taken Jack to finally admit what he was feeling, but then Brennan _was_ a genius.

"Hearing that he's a damn good soldier scares you," he repeated as he fixed his eyes on the bed, not really seeing Booth but not turning to look at her either. "It scares you because deep down you know it's true; you know he's an exceptional soldier and you've seen how easy it is for him to slip back into that role. And you can't understand why anyone wouldn't want to do what they're so good at – especially when it comes so easily. So, you're sure that he'll want to go back to active duty, sooner rather than later. And there's no way you can stand in his way if he does. But the mere idea of that terrifies you because he might be a great soldier yet, here you are: watching him fight for his life, a fight that in any other circumstances he more than likely would lose. And you can't imagine how you could go through this again when you're barely getting through it now. The fact that you might have to makes you want to run away but you won't because beneath the fear and the urge to run, you don't really want to leave; you're happy with the way things are. And that contradiction confuses you – and if there's anything that you like less than being scared it's being confused. And the idea that one day he might lose the fight for his life while being a part of something you don't really understand or even really respect really gets to you," he finished with a shrug, leaving behind a profound silence as Brennan tried to understand how he could possibly understand everything she was feeling.

"You're wrong," she said after a few moments. "I might not understand why someone would join the military," she explained when Jack looked at her out of the corner of his eyes and raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to clarify. "And I might not agree with the decisions the politicians make or even think that war is ever the answer but I have nothing but respect and admiration for the men and women that choose to don the uniform and to willingly put their lives on the line to protect the rights and freedoms we take for granted." It was said simply and sincerely; whether or not she'd always felt like that, she couldn't feel any other way after having known Booth and the members of SG1.

"As for the rest," she continued after Jack nodded acknowledging her proviso, "you are right about it. The idea of Booth wanting to go back to active duty does scare . . . the crap out of me."

"You don't have anything to worry about, you know," he told her, finally turning to fully look at her. "He has no desire to go back to active duty. Maybe if things were different, he would want to but things aren't different. He's left all that behind and he's more than happy with the way things are now. He wants to be there to see his son grow up and he wants to spend his life with you. He won't go back to active duty."

"Unless," Brennan added, "something happens that requires him to be called back, then he'd go back without thinking twice about it."

"I don't know about him going without thinking twice about it," he demurred. "But yeah, if he's recalled, he'll go back. His sense of duty, honor and loyalty wouldn't let him do anything else. Following orders, doing his duty is hardwired into him; it's an integral part of who he is. And, frankly, I doubt you'd love him half as much if he _could_ do anything else."

"Probably not," she murmured, looking down at Booth and thinking that Angela was right: it wasn't easy loving honorable men.

"Look," Jack said a few moments later as he straightened after rocking on his feet, "I know that, given what's happen, this will probably seem like cold comfort, but the fact is that he really is an exceptional soldier. He's probably one of the best I've ever served with. T was right, as usual, he _is_ a born warrior and that should bring you some comfort. Yes, he's injured and yes, even the best of soldiers fall sometimes but the fact is that he'll always do his best to come back to you – and his best is pretty darn good. I wouldn't hesitate to go into battle with him because I know he'd have my back. I'd trust him with my life; more, I'd trust him with the lives of SG1. He's more than earn earned his place in the team and there's really not that many people I can say that about," and there really was no higher compliment he could give.

"Booth may seem like an open, friendly, easy going type of man," Brennan began and Jack raised his eyebrows, seemingly wondering where she was going with such a non-sequitur. "But deep down," she continued as she turned her face to once more study Booth's, "he's just as private as I am. He's not one to exaggerate, be intimidated or in awe of anyone; he also has great instincts," this was said with a wry small smile, "about people. So, when he says he respects and admires someone, I listen to it because I know he really means it. After we first met you," she said, looking back up at Jack, "he told me that he would follow you into hell if you asked him because he knew you'd have a damn good reason for asking and that you'd bring him back out. So, that _might_ be cold comfort coming from anyone else," she concluded with a small nod for emphasis, "but coming from you, it's . . . it means a lot."

Jack cleared his throat and rocked back and forth on his heels; as always uncomfortable with anything resembling praise. "Yeah, well," he said finally, as Brennan had gone back to looking at Booth and playing with the food containers she held on her lap. "I better get out of here and go finish eating. You better eat yours before it gets cold too," he added, pointing at the food.

"Yes, sir," Brennan answered with a small smirk, then grinning at Jack's reaction to the small joke. He hadn't meant the suggestion to sound so much like an order, that was probably an occupational hazard, but it had somehow brought her the first real smile in what seemed like forever.

"Ok, well," Jack said, turning as he started to walk away. "Holler if you need anything."

"I will," Brennan assured him. "And General," she called out just as he was crossing the doorway. "thanks," it was said simply and plainly. There was no need for embellishment; they both knew what she was talking about. Jack, a man of few words (usually), just nodded before walking away.

Brennan sighed as she turned back and finally opened the containers; her stomach growling loudly, when the wonderful smell of all her favorites reached her nose, reminded her that it had been a long time since she'd eaten. With a silent thanks to Angela, she mused that Booth had been right. There were all kinds of family and it seemed like theirs had just doubled in numbers.

A few hours later, Brennan was cozily settled into a chase lounge, working on her laptop and surrounded by a number of academic journals. She'd just finished eating when Angela and Vala had hurried in, all excited and brimming with enthusiasm; it turns out that Janet had been concerned about Brennan and how much rest she'd be getting. From experience, Janet knew that the chances that Brennan would leave Booth's side to go rest before he was well on his way to recovery were negligible at best and she'd mused out loud about wishing she could do something. Vala and Angela had looked at each other and, together with Janet they'd convinced Jack they _could_ do something.

When they'd run into the sickbay, they'd been so excited that they've been talking over each other and were so loud that Brennan for a moment had thought that they'd wake Booth up and it had taken her a while to understand what they were going on about. It hadn't been until the white light flashed, leaving behind the chaise lounge along with her favorite pillow, throw, laptop and a few of the journals she'd been meaning to read that Brennan started to realize why they were so thrilled.

Brennan blinked a few times and cleared her throat before she could thank them. Angela and Vala had waved away the thanks and had instead insisted that she actually take advantage of the chaise and rest. She promised them she would and after a few more minutes of talking, the two had left so that Brennan could rest.

She had tried and had actually fallen asleep for a little less than an hour and when she just hadn't been able to sleep anymore, she had turned on the computer and gotten some work done. Only Angela would have known that now that the immediate danger to Booth was pretty much over and worry and fear were no longer overpowering her, she would need something to occupy her while she waited for Booth to wake up. It really was wonderful to have a best friend that knew you so well – when it wasn't being a major pain as she forced you to face things you'd rather ignore.

She was moving along at a steady pace working on her computer when she thought she saw Booth move. She hurriedly put away the laptop and moved closer to Booth's bed; she took Booth's hand and quietly asked, "Booth?"

She stayed leaning towards him, holding his hand and hoping that he would _do_ something. A few moments later, she sighed and was about to sit back down on the chaise when he moaned and subtly moved his head as his eyelids started to flutter.

"Booth," she called again, her voice tight with anxiety and hope as she leaned even closer to him. "Booth, can you hear me?" Some distant part of her brain knew she should call for Janet but she was so anxious about seeing Booth wake up that it was easy to ignore that part. "Booth?"

"Bones?" he asked in a thin and reedy voice as he moved his head a little and licked his lips. He finally opened his eyes and blinked a few times as he tried to focus on her, "Bones?" he repeated and had her swallowing a sob at finally hearing his voice again.

"Yes, it's me," she told him as she tightened the hand that had gripped his and gently stroked his hair with her free hand. "I'm right here."

"Bones," he whispered once again. "What happened?" He asked, licking his lips once more as he tried to take in his surroundings. "Where are we?"

"You were shot while on the raid with SG1," she answered him. "Don't you remember?"

"I . . ." Booth said, frowning in concentration. "That bastard was supposed to be down," he finally said.

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "The General said you were making sure they were all down but one of them surprised you."

"Yeah," he muttered and nodded his head and then grimaced a little as that small movement made him somewhat dizzy. "So, how bad is it?" He asked, trying to gauge for himself but unable to really feel anything but a general weakness due, no doubt, to the very find fine drugs they'd had him on.

"Bad," Brennan answered simply before she straightened and made to pull away.

"Hey," he called, trying to tightened his grip on her hand but not strong enough to maintain the hold when she pulled away. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back," she told him, standing up. "I just need to go tell Janet you're awake. She needs to examine you. I won't be more than a minute," she assured him when he frowned up at her. Reluctantly, he nodded and she stepped away.

"Hey, Bones," he called out, in a much weaker and softer tone than he'd used normally, as she reached the threshold. She paused and turned to look at him. "You didn't answer me before," he told her. "Where are we?" He asked again, looking around. "This doesn't look like the SGC."

"It's not," she told him with a small smile. "We're in Thor's ship," and before he could react to that little piece of information, she said, "I'll be back," and then she was gone.

"Thor's ship," he repeated in a whisper and he once again looked around. A few seconds later, the surprised drained away and he couldn't resist whispering, "Cool!" He was standing, or laying as the case may be, on in an honest to goodness spaceship; it really didn't get much better than that. Well, aside from the whole getting shot thing. As he looked around at the room once more, he couldn't help but wonder how Hodgins would react to the being on a spaceship. He didn't dwell on it too long because, true to her word, Brennan was back in no time at all with Janet in tow.

"I see you're awake," Janet greeted him, coming to a stop by his bedside and reading what looked like a computer terminal, which, he assumed was recording his vitals. Brennan, Booth noticed, stayed a couple of feet apart from his bed as if to give Janet all the room she'd needed. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," was his instinctive response but the knowing look Janet gave him made him reconsider. His eyes got a glazed look as he checked in with his body, "I feel pretty . . . floaty right now. Those are out of this world pain killers you have me on; I'm not feeling any pain at all. I can tell it's going to be . . . very painful when they wear off, though."

"We'll do our best to keep you as comfortable as possible," Janet assured him. "I'm glad you finally woke up, though," she continued. "There are a lot of people waiting for you to wake up. It's good of you to finally accommodate them. They've been very worried."

"Always happy to help out," he quipped with a water-downed version of his trademark Charm Smile.

"Good," Janet nodded, "Because they were really getting anxious. I believe Dr. Hodgins was even thinking it might be a good idea if he came in and tried to wake you up."

"Hodgins is here?" Booth asked; that was what the statement implied but for some reason it surprised him.

"They're all here," Brennan answered, speaking up for the first time. "Along with SG1."

"Yes," Janet added. "They're all on the bridge waiting for news on how you're doing."

"That's . . . very nice of them," Booth said after a few seconds of silence where he assimilated that information.

"Yes, it is," Janet agreed and nodded at whatever it was she was reading on the computer terminal.

"So," Brennan said, sounding more impatient than she meant but she really couldn't keep quiet any longer; Janet, however, didn't seem to take any offense. "How is he doing?"

"Very well," Janet answered, looking up with a smile. "Even a little better than I was expecting."

"He'll be okay, then?" Brennan pushed.

"If he keeps going at this rate," Janet answered with a small nod. Before Brennan could say anything else, a disgruntled Booth spoke up.

"He's right here; awake and wondering what happened."

"You were shot," Brennan told him in a tone of voice that conveyed both an 'didn't I just told tell you that?' and a 'did the injury damage your brain?' question.

"I know that," Booth said, impatiently. "I meant afterwards; how bad was it?" Brennan and Janet looked at each other and Brennan motioned for Janet to be the one to answer. Booth frowned at that decision; Brennan was not the type of person that usually let others speak when she knew the answers.

"You were shot twice at close range," Janet finally told him. "The bullets entered your left side at almost maximum velocity and ricocheted, breaking two of your ribs and bruising another two. They also perforated your liver, left kidney, pancreas and spleen and nicked two hepatic veins and your large intestine." When Janet paused, Booth grimaced.

"That sounds bad," he commented dryly.

"It was," Janet nodded. "If the General hadn't had the hand-held healing device with him and if Vala and Sam hadn't used it, you would have probably bled to death before I could get to you. As it was, they were able to stop the bleeding and repair most of the damage to your hepatic veins; your organs, however, were too badly damage damaged for them or me to repair."

"You weren't able to repair them?" Booth asked, alarmed. "I thought you just said I'd be okay? How can I be okay if what? four of my organs are damaged . . .?"

"Calm yourself, Major," Janet interrupted him. Booth took a deep breath and nodded, settling down to hear as Janet explained what they'd done to save him.

"Cloned?" he repeated, incredulously, when Janet reached that part of the story. "Are you saying you cloned me?"

"Of course not," Janet answered and shared a look with Brennan; it was all they could do not to roll their eyes.

"Cloning a fully grown man would take more than the two days you were unconscious, Booth," Brennan told Booth in the tone of voice she usually used with Parker. "Why does everyone insists on asking the same thing?" She asked Janet, who just shrugged with a 'what can you do?' look on his her face.

"So," Booth said, bringing their attention back to him. "If I wasn't cloned, then what did you clone? And how did that help me?"

"If you'd let me finish my explanation," Janet began and Booth put up his hands in an 'I'm sorry, please go ahead' gesture. With a nod of acknowledgment, she continued and told him about cloning his organs and then exchanging them for the damaged ones. "Because they're exact copies of your own organs, the risks associated with transplant surgeries were greatly reduced – all but eliminated really. I was a little concern because you were so weak, but the surgery went off without a hitch and you seem to be well on your way to recovery."

"And I can expect a full recovery?" Booth asked, sounding worried. He knew what having an organ transplant usually meant: medical discharge.

"Yes," Janet nodded. "It won't be fast or easy," she cautioned, "but I expect that you will make a full recovery."

"Good," Booth said, relieved. "So, when can I go home?"

"Oh, that won't be for a while yet," Janet informed him. "You're doing pretty good so far," she went on to explain, "but I don't want to move you until you've been stable for at least 48 hours; even if we're using the transporter, I don't want to risk it."

"I can go home in two days?" Booth once again interrupted Janet.

"No," Janet shook his head and frowned down at Booth, both for the interruption and for the assumption. "Of course not. We'll beam you down to the SGC, where you'll stay for at least a couple of weeks so that we can monitor and make sure everything's healing as it should. Depending on how you're doing, I'll discharge you home, where you'll recuperate for another four to six weeks. Depending on how you're doing then, you'll start rehab and I'll release you for light duty. You were in pretty good physical shape before the shooting, so I'm sure you'll get through rehab with no problem. You should be back out in the field," Janet added without being asked because she knew that was what he was really interested in, "in three to four months, six at most."

"Six months?!" Booth exclaimed and moved as if to sit up but Brennan hurried forward and put her hand on his shoulder to keep him laying lying down.

"At most," Janet repeated. "You could be out in the field in three months."

"But you said I would make a full recovery," Booth argued.

"And you will," Janet assured him. When he still looked like he was going to argue, she frowned down at him and firmly told him, "but it won't happen over night. I performed a complicated and highly theoretical surgery on you less than two days ago; I _did not_ performed perform a miracle. Asgard technology is significantly more advanced than ours but it is not instantaneous or miraculous. Your body has suffered a great trauma; you lost a lot of blood and were on the verge of complete organ shut down. You need to give your body a chance to recover from that; you can't just jump back in as if nothing had happened."

"I know that, doc," Booth said, giving her his 'puppy eyes'. "But three months! I'll go crazy if I have to stay in bed for weeks and wait three months before going back to field duty!"

"You won't go crazy if you have to wait a few weeks before going back to field duty," Janet told him firmly. "But you could have a serious relapse if you go back before you're ready. To make sure that won't happen, I will be in charge of your recovery."

"But doc," Booth started to whine.

"Don't 'doc' me," Janet told him, shaking her head. "Your need to give your body the time it needs to completely recover. You came very close to dying less than 48 hours ago, Major; frankly, I think you should be thankful you're alive right now and not argue about the length of your recovery."

"I am thankful, doc," Booth said sincerely. "It's just that . . ."

"Enough, Booth!" Brennan said firmly. "Didn't you hear what Janet just said? You almost died! For more than four hours, I didn't know whether you'd make it or not. You're going to do everything Janet tells you to because I am not going through that again."

"Yes, Temperance," Booth said meekly. Janet had to turn away on the pretense of putting down Booth's chart to hide her smirk. It was a fact of life that the tougher a man was, the more they listened to their wives/significant others. Janet had seen it happened happen again and again.

"Don't worry, Janet," Brennan said as she turned to face the doctor. "I'll make sure he doesn't do anything he shouldn't."

"Good," Janet nodded. "I know you'll keep him in line. Well, you're doing pretty good," she told Booth as she checked the computer read outs one more time. "I recommend you try and get some more rest."

"Ah, doc," Booth complained. "I just spent the last two days sleeping. I don't think I can sleep anymore."

"I suggest you try," Janet said with a smile as she prepared to leave. "Because there are a lot of people out there that want to come see you and I don't think I can keep them out for long. You better get all the rest you can right now."

"He'll rest, Janet," Brennan assured her. "I'll make sure of it."

"I leave him in good hands then," Janet said with a grin and with a final nod to both of them, she turned and started to walk away.

"Hey, doc," Booth called before Janet reached the doorway. When the good doctor paused and turned back, he told her, "thanks." His sincerity was obvious and Janet just smiled back before she left the couple alone.

Booth and Brennan looked at each other in silence, knowing they needed to talk but for the moment, content just being in each other's presence.


	20. Chapter 20

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, not mine.

**A/N: **Well, finally here it is!! The next chapter of Aliens. I'd like to apologize for having to taken so long to post it. I actually finished it a while ago but when it turned out to be long to just be one chapter, I ended up having two finished chapters and I decided that I liked that. So, I held on to it until I had more chapters done and I am happy to tell you I now have the next three chapters all written and betaed and the one after that is more than halfway done. And there's only the epilogue after that one so we're within sight of the finish line. It's been a crazy ride but don't be too sad since I have the sequel all planned out. It'll be a little bit since I start posting that since I really, really, really want to finish this Atlantis fic that I started like three years ago and haven't finished yet! And there are a couple of one shots I want to write too but that's another story. So, thanks to Pup for all her help and for each and every review. I try to get to everyone but sometimes I don't so please excuse me if I didn't get back to you. Please know that every review means a lot to me and always encourage me to keep writing. Ok, I think that's it. I now leave you to the fic. Please let me know what you think!!!

**Chapter 20 **

"So," Booth finally said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. "How are you?"

"How am I?" Brennan repeated, in disbelief. "You're the one that just got shot!"

"Yes," Booth nodded. "And thanks to the chat with Janet, I know exactly how I'm doing; I also know how I feel. I don't, however, know how you're feeling or doing."

"I'm fine," she told him but couldn't hold his gaze.

"Really?" he asked her in a voice that said he didn't believe her. "Because, you don't look fine to me." When she didn't say anything, just kept playing with the blanket on his bed, he sighed. "Temperance, look at me," he told her. When she did, he went on, "I know that this couldn't have been easy on you; I know that if it had been you on this bed, I probably would have been going crazy with worry. So, please, talk to me. Tell me what's going on in that busy head of yours."

"It's just . . . you're right, it wasn't easy," she finally admitted. "It was one of the hardest things I've ever been through in my life. I . . . I knew something had gone wrong as soon as Janet was beamed out without any warning; Angela tried to tell me that it didn't have to mean you were in trouble but I _knew_. Then Daniel got the call and we were beamed to the SGC. And there you were, so pale and still on the gurney and there were bloody rags all around you – stained with _your_ blood. " Brennan stopped long enough to take a deep breath and Booth reached out to take hold of her hand. "I know emergency rooms and operating rooms are always in a state of controlled chaos with the medical personnel in that same state but I could tell that there was this sense of almost urgent desperation underneath it all and I know what that means – they were afraid you wouldn't make it. And then Janet came over and told us that you needed surgery but that you had, at most, a 15% chance of surviving it. And even if you did, you're life as you knew it would be over," she paused again and blinked hard to stop the tears from falling.

"I couldn't understand it," she shook her head. "They have all this alien technology available to them; they're able to accomplish amazing things like transporting us from DC to Colorado Springs in the blink of an eye and all of them have been on the verge of dying or have died and been brought back more than a few times so why couldn't they save you? Why couldn't they use some of that alien technology and save you? Janet said they didn't have anything they could use but the General remembered Thor was still in orbit and contacted him. Before I could really understand what was going on, we were here, on this ship. But even after Thor and Janet consulted, the procedure they came up with was,..." she shook her head. "It wasn't even experimental because no one had ever thought of it. And you were still so weak that they couldn't guarantee you would make it through the surgery. And I," her voice broke and she swallowed hard and blinked rapidly again. "I was the one that had to decide whether you should have the standard procedure or the completely experimental one – and it didn't really matter which one I chose because your chances of surviving either one were equally as bad. And the surgery took so long," she started to sob and Booth tried to get up to hug her but he was still too weak, the only thing he could do was try to shush her but she was too far gone to stop.

"The General and the rest of SG1 were convinced you'd be ok; I think all of them had been saved at one time or another by both Janet and Thor but I barely knew Janet and I didn't know Thor. There wasn't anything I could do but trust people I don't really know and . . . it just seemed endless; the hours seemed to crawl by. I know it could have been worse; without Thor, it would have been worse but . . . you were in surgery, your life was hanging by a thread and there was nothing I could do but wait. You almost died, Booth, and I . . ." she couldn't go on; the memory of that terrifying time, of the long hours where there was nothing to do but wait to hear whether he'd live or not came back and shook her control. She closed her eyes and started to breathe deeply, trying to control the sobs that wanted to escape. She'd already broken down once; she didn't need to do it again – especially in front of Booth, who had enough on his plate without worrying about her. Unfortunately, breaking down in front of Booth was disconcertingly easy; she'd always felt so safe in his presence that her barriers always came down when he was around.

"Shush," he whispered, pulling her down by the hand he still held and giving her an awkward one arm hug. "It's okay; I'm right here. I didn't die"

"No," she murmured as she burrowed her head against his neck. "But you almost did."

"Almost doesn't count," he told her firmly. "I know it was a lot and that you were scared but I'm fine now. I'll be just fine. You know that, right?"

"Yes," she nodded and a few moments later raised her head from his shoulder and sat back up, wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape. "And you'll follow Janet's instructions to the letter to make sure you'll be fine," she sternly told him.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered cheekily. Privately, he swore he would do whatever they told him to do to make sure he was as good as new as soon as possible because he didn't want to give her anything else to worry about. She was such a strong woman, to see her so distraught and almost fragile left him feeling as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. Thankfully there hadn't been many instances when she'd been so close to an emotional break down.

But as bad and guilty as he felt about being the reason for so much emotional turmoil, he couldn't help but feel awed and humbled and flattered at the evidence of just how much she did care for him. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise; he knew she loved him, she might not tell him on a regular basis but it was there in everything she did. But, apparently, knowing someone loved you and seeing just how much were too very different things.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he began, a few moments later, when she seemed to have completely recovered her equilibrium. "But I'm kind of surprised to see you here."

"Where else would I be?" she asked him; frowning in confusion.

"Back at the lab?" he replied, shrugging. "I mean, I know you love me and you want to be there for me but . . . I know you, Temperance. You have a tendency to . . . well, to flee and hide when things get too emotionally charged. And I can't imagine things getting more emotionally charged than this. I just thought that maybe you would have . . ."

"Run and hide?" she finished for him when he trailed off.

"Well, yes," he answered, shrugging. "Not that you would have gotten very far; I would have come for you as soon as I was able to stand." She noticed he didn't say as soon as the doctors okayed it, and she knew he meant it literally. He would have come looking for her as soon as he could, regardless of what the doctors said; hadn't he come looking for her when Kenton had her - even though he could barely walk upright?

"You would have come after me, huh?" she asked, teasing him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, I would have," he answered firmly and seriously. "There's no where on this Earth you could go where I wouldn't find you." From any other man, that statement would have sounded threatening and would have sent her running; oddly enough, coming from Booth, it was reassuring. But something about the way he said it had her thinking.

"You've thought about this before, haven't you?" she asked him, tilting her head as she studied his face. "You've thought about me running if you were to get hurt," she said slowly, seeing on his face that it was true.

"Yes," he nodded. "I have. Like I said, I know you, Bones," he shrugged. "I knew that if I was to be seriously hurt, you'd find it hard to deal with and would probably want to run from all the pain. I thought you'd think being together wasn't worth it and that I was just like everyone else after all and left you behind," he shrugged again before smiling and tightened his hand over hers. "But here you are so, I'm glad I was wrong."

"You weren't completely wrong, though," Brennan told him after a few moments of silence, and finally looked up from her absorbing study of his fingers.

"What do you mean?" he asked, shifting a little on the bed to get more comfortable.

"I mean," she took a deep breath and straightened on her seat, "that for a while there, I did want to run. I did think about how hard the waiting and not knowing was and I wondered whether I could go through it all again – whether it was worth it. I stood on the bridge and I knew that even if you got through the surgery okay and made a complete recovery, there was a good chance that I would find myself right back in the same place at some point in the future. I don't mean the same place physically," she explained when he frowned in confusion, "but the same place emotionally, waiting to hear whether you'd make it alive out of surgery and I didn't know whether I could go through that again, whether I would have the strength to live with the real possibility that we could end up back here at almost any time."

"Bones, you're one of the strongest persons I know," he protested.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not, not really. I'm just very good at faking it. Why do you think I've spent most of my life avoiding emotional entanglements? Because that's the easiest way to not get hurt and I know I'm not strong enough to risk it."

"You got emotionally entangled with me," he argued.

"Yes, but you didn't give me much choice, did you?" she countered.

"We always have a choice," he affirmed. "You just chose to stop running and take a chance. And that takes strength; it takes a lot of strength to overcome the habits of a lifetime and to change them."

"Maybe," she allowed. "But I didn't feel very strong when I was waiting to hear if you made it through the surgery. I felt . . . as weak and fragile as I'd ever felt. And yes, it did remind me of how I felt after my parents and Russ left. And I couldn't imagine how I could go through it all again. I couldn't see how I could put myself through it. And it would have been so easy to just walk away."

"Would it really have been so easy?" he wanted to know. "To walk away and leave me behind, would it have been easy to do?"

"Maybe not," she shook her head and grimaced slightly. "But in those few moments it seemed easier than the alternative."

"So, why didn't you run?" he asked when she fell silent.

"Because what would be the point?" she shrugged. "As Sam said, I can run as fast and as far as I want to but I can never out run myself; I'll always take all my issues with me – and no matter where I end up, I'll still love you. So, what would be the point?"

"You talked to Colonel Carter?" Booth asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yes," Brennan nodded. "She came to talk to me while we were waiting. I guess she could tell how hard I was taking it and could understand what I was going through better than almost anyone else. She said a lot of things that made sense, some were conclusions I had reached myself months ago but which the fear had muddled and some were things I needed to hear at that particular moment."

"Well, I'm glad you had someone to talk to," he told her and smiled.

"Oh, I had more than one someone to talk to," she corrected him. "Angela and the General also came and talked to me."

"The _General_ talked to you?" Booth asked, sounding more than a little surprised.

"Yes," she nodded. "He brought me some food while I was waiting for you to wake up. You know," she added, thoughtfully, "he really is a very thoughtful, compassionate and articulate man."

"The _General_?" Booth asked again, when he stopped hawking. "You're sure we're talking about the same general? General O'Neill?"

"Of course," she answered firmly. "It's not the first time he's talked to me. He can be very sweet."

"Okay," he said with a half smile. "This is definitely the first time I've heard those words used to describe the General. Usually the words used are more in along the line of 'hard-ass', 'arrogant', 'kick-ass' . . . you get the gist."

"Yes, I do," she nodded. "And while I do think that he can be all those things, there's more to him than that. Maybe those other people don't know him as well."

"Probably not," he agreed. "Like I said, I'm glad you weren't alone but had people around that helped you."

"We're both very, very lucky to have them as friends," she told him, thinking of why they were so lucky to have such good friends. "If the General hadn't thought to take the hand healing device and if Sam and Vala hadn't been there or if they hadn't been able to use that device, you would have bled out before Janet could have gotten to you. We have a lot to thank them for," she concluded.

"Yeah, I guess we do," he said but he shifted his eyes from hers and didn't sound all that convinced.

"What is it?" Brennan asked and frowned. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," he answered but when she squinted at him, he shrugged and continued. "It's just . . . and I don't mean to sound ungrateful," he hastened to clarify, "but why didn't they just use that alien thingy and just fix me all the way? I mean, if they could stop all the bleeding why couldn't they repair the damage done to my other organs? That way, I wouldn't have needed the transplants or be looking at weeks and weeks of being tied to a bed and even more months of therapy before I'm back on my feet."

"It's not that simple, Booth," Brennan told him and shook her head.

"Why not?" he asked and she was amused to see that he was almost pouting. "What do you know?"

"Well," she answered, "according to what Daniel told us, the device draws energy from the person using it and transfers it to the person that's sick or injured, augmenting and expediting the body's own healing abilities. So, while it is pretty powerful, it is not all powerful – it has its limits, especially when it's being used by Sam and Vala."

"Why?" Booth asked.

"You remember that the reason Sam and Vala can work the device is that they were once host to Goa'uld's symbiotes, right?" Brennan asked and Booth nodded, he remembered something about both women having been taken as hosts against their will, even though Colonel Carter had been a host to the Tok'ra, who were supposed to be the 'good branch' of the Goa'uld. "Well, while the protein marker the parasites left behind allowed both to access the device, they're not able to access its full power because they don't actually _have_ a symbiote. Since the device takes the users own energy to heal the injured person, there's an in-built limit on how much it can do . . ."

"Because there's only so much energy a person can . . . donate," Booth finished the thought for her. When she nodded, he frowned. "But having a symbiote makes a difference?" He asked.

"Yes," she nodded again. "Apparently, the Goa'uld symbiotes can not only heal almost any injury or illness for their hosts; they're also an almost endless source of energy. A fully blended Tok'ra or Goa'uld can use the healing device to cure almost any injury or illness on someone else."

"But an . . . unblended human," Booth asked, "how much can they cure?"

"It depends on how much energy they can spare," Brennan answered. "And on how much control of the device they have. From what I understand, Vala has a lot more control of it than Sam because she spent years as a host while Sam was a host for only a few days. But there's only so much even she could do."

"My injuries were too severe for her to completely fix," it was said as a statement but she answered it.

"Yes," she nodded. "But she – and Sam, they both did the best they could. I wasn't there when Vala was using the device but I was there for the last few minutes of Sam's using it. She wouldn't stop until both Janet and the General insisted. She was pale, shaking and swaying so bad that the General had to help her walk away from your bed and still she would have continued if they hadn't insisted. I'm sure that Vala reacted the same way. I know that they both insisted on coming up here with us even though it was obvious they were beyond exhausted and both Daniel and the General protested, saying it would be better if they stayed at the SGC."

"And they still came?" Booth asked, "even though Daniel and the General protested?"

"Of course," she nodded. "Do they look like the kind of women that would let anything stop them from doing what they thought was right?" she asked and Booth shook his head. "And like they said, they could rest as well up here as down at the SGC – maybe even a little better since up here they wouldn't be wondering what was going on with you."

"I see," Booth said.

"We owe them both," Brennan said quietly, "so much." Booth nodded; it sounded like they hadn't only saved his life, they had literally given him their life force.

"I'll be sure to thank them as soon as I see them," he said. Privately, he decided that he'd also thank Daniel and the General. He knew what it was like to see the woman you loved put her life on the line and not be able to do anything about it; it wasn't easy and took a lot off of a man.

"That will probably be very soon," she told him. "They're all out on the bridge waiting," frankly, she was surprised Janet had been able to keep them all out for so long.

"I'll be happy to see them," he told her, "but if they're all here, who's taking care of the case?"

"They are," she answered. "They decided to work from up here."

"Why?" he frowned. "Not because of me . . ."

"No," she shook her head, "at least not just because you're here. The fact is there's no place on Earth, not even the Jeffersonian that can offer the same kind of security the computers in this ship provide. With the computers here completely isolated from the ones on Earth, there's no possibility of them being hacked or any information being leaked."

"I guess that's true," Booth said slowly; everything she'd said made sense but there was something in her eyes that made him think there was more to it than that. "What's happened?"

"You should be resting, Booth," she said instead of answering. "Why don't you try to sleep?"

"I've been asleep for two days, Bones," he complained. "I'm not sleepy. Please, tell me what's been going on with the case." When she hesitated, he added, "I promise to tell you if I start to get tired, ok?"

"Fine," she nodded after looking firmly at Booth and decided that fighting would be counter-productive. "You remember that Ba'al managed to escape, right?"

"Yes," he nodded. "He beamed out right before the shooting started; the General's right, deep down he's a coward."

"That might be true," she conceded, "but he's also no longer on Earth."

"Are we sure he's left Earth?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Thor detected the energy from the beam and seconds later, his sensors picked up what must have been a cloaked ship entering hyperspace . . . I can't believe I just said that sentence with a straight face," she added a few seconds later when she actually heard what it was that she'd said.

"I know," Booth grinned at her astonished face and at the wild, incredible adventure they seemed to have embarked upon. His face sobered a few seconds later, "so, he's really gone?"

"For right now, yes," Brennan answered.

"I bet the General loved that," he mused.

"I don't think he was too happy about it," she agreed. "But at first he was too worried about you and then he's been too busy deal with everything else that he hasn't had much chance to say anything about it – at least not to me."

"What's everything?" he wanted to know.

"The warehouse you and SG1 raided turned out to be Ba'al's main hideout," she started to explain. "We'd been able to record quite a lot of information about Ba'al's plan from the papers and computers that were found there. The other locales that were raided also yielded important information. SG1 and the squints spent most of the last two days sifting through all of that information and putting it together with what we had already pieced together earlier on in the investigation. Plus, Thor and Sam were finally able to get into the database you guys brought back from that planet six months ago."

"So we finally know what his plan was?" he asked, looking eager.

"Yes," she answered. "They're still putting together all the pieces, it's a lot of information to go through, but they've got enough now to have a broad out look of what he was planning."

"And?"

"And Ba'al might very well be a coward but he's also a great tactician," she said.

"Colonel Carter said that Ba'al's as good at strategy as the General is," Booth commented. That surprised Brennan, who blinked twice.

"You think the General is capable of planning the complete break down of the world's political and economical infrastructure?"

"If he put his mind to it," Booth answered, "yes, I think he could do it. Is that what Ba'al had planned?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He wanted to replace every political, military and economical leader with a clone under his control."

"You said 'the world's infrastructure'?" Booth reminded her.

"Yes," she sighed. "From what we've been able to gather, he was planning to replace the leaders not only here in the States but also in Europe, the Middle East, Asia . . . basically, he wanted to take over the world's most powerful countries."

"That's . . ." Booth began, shaking his head. "That sounds like one hell of a mess to clean up," he finished, and he couldn't help but be impressed at the scope of the Goa'uld's brilliance and guts. "How far along his plan did he actually get?"

"Far enough that it _is_ . . . one hell of a mess to clean up," she answered. "But, thankfully, not far enough along that it'll be impossible to straighten out; most of the people that have been replaced have only been assistants and at most Chiefs of Staff; so, while it is a logistical nightmare to remove all of them without causing too many waves, it's not as hard as it would be if Ba'al had managed to cloned more visible officials."

"Still," Booth mused, "they have to move carefully and in a coordinated way or risk having the clones find out that we know about the plan and run. This doesn't only need to be kept from the public but from the clones themselves."

"Yes," Brennan agreed. "That's why the General doesn't want to do anything until we learn everything we can about the plan from the papers and computers we confiscated from Ba'al's hideouts and until we're absolutely sure we know everyone that's involved."

"He can't risk going unknowingly going to someone that's involved and letting the cat out of the bag," Booth nodded. "Who knows?" He asked, curious, "besides the President and us?"

"The Joint chiefs and a few other military officers the General thought needed to know, the Presidents of the other implicated countries and some of their closest advisors. But only after Thor made absolutely certain they're who they were supposed to be and put some safeguards in place to make sure they stayed that way."

"The Presidents of other countries know what happened?" Booth asked and Brennan nodded. "How did that go? I bet it created some waves."

"I'm sure it did," she shrugged; she'd been waiting for Booth to wake up so her information on how the rest of the world reacted was sketchy. "I don't have all the details but I do know that they all demanded that General O'Neill be the one put in charge of the investigation and . . ."

"Cover up?" Booth asked dryly. When Brennan grimaced slightly at the term, Booth shrugged. "What? That's what it is. We can't afford for the public to learn even a hint of what's really going on. I mean, can you imagine what would happen if any of this were to get out?" Brennan was somewhat surprised at hearing him sound so . . . pragmatic and cynical.

"Chaos," she whispered. "There would be widespread chaos and panic and . . ."

"It would be complete pandemonium," Booth added. "Whether we like the term or not, what the General has to plan is a cover up; he needs to come up with a conspiracy to counter the one already in progress."

"You're right," Brennan conceded. "But until he's sure who he can and who he can't trust, the only thing he's been able to do is keep an eye on those we already know are clones and make sure to contain anything they might do. Which is what Mitchell and SG2 are in charge of; since the General doesn't want to bring in any more people than he has to, they're conducting electronic surveillance from the ship."

"Sounds like a good plan," Booth said. "Wait, did you say that all the international delegates asked that the General be put in charge?"

"Yes," she answered. "Seems like he's the only one that they all agree they can trust."

"I bet he loved to hear that," he grinned. "But I know he's probably the best person for the job. If anyone can figure out how to get out of this mess, it's the General."

"Well, you seem to think he'd be capable of planning something similar to this," Brennan commented, "so I guess he'd be the one to figure out how to get out of it."

"I have no doubt he will figure it out," Booth insisted, grinning at her caustic tone. "I'm sure the General's loving dealing with all that diplomacy and politics."

"Yes, he doesn't seem too fond of diplomacy or politics," she agreed. "But he's assigned Daniel and Jonas to go to all the meetings and deal with every one of the questions and queries while he concentrates on planning . . . the cover up."

"I thought the international dignitaries asked for the General," though it wasn't quite a question, Brennan nodded. "And they don't have a problem dealing with Daniel and Jonas instead?"

"Apparently when they asked for the General that included the rest of SG1," she replied. "They all seem to trust the all of SG1 not just because the General trusts them but because of everything they've done. I think SG1 is quite famous in the circles that know about the Gate."

"I'm not surprised," Booth nodded. "Given all the times they've helped save the planet." He tried shifting a little to get more comfortable but the movement pulled something that caused him to grimace in pain.

"Are you okay?" she asked, leaning forward she reached her hand as if to touch him. Afraid to hurt him even more, she hesitated before making contact and her hand just hovered for a few seconds before she pulled it back. "Should I call Janet? I'm sure she can give you something . . ."

"No, don't call her," Booth was saying. "I'm fine; just moved a little more than I should have, that's all. Really, I'm fine, Bones. Calm down."

"Are you sure?" she insisted.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Maybe you should try and rest now, Booth," she told him. "You really need to take it easy."

"I am taking it easy, Bones," he argued. "I'm lying here doing nothing but talking to you – and I'm not even doing much talking, I'm basically just listening to you."

"Still, I think I should leave and let you . . ." she wasn't able to finish because he interrupted her.

"Oh, come on, Bones," he protested. "I'm not sleepy yet."

"But you should really rest, Booth," she insisted.

"I'll rest in a little while," he assured her. "I would like some water, though," he added. "You think you can get me some?"

"Sure," she nodded and stood up. "I'll go and get you some. I'll be right back." With that, she turned and walked away to get the water. Booth sighed before wincing again. He really felt like crap but he wasn't ready to go back to sleep yet; he wanted to know what else had been going on. He'd stay up a little longer, just until she'd told him everything and then he'd sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **No, still not mine - despite my best efforts, which include: introducing them to aliens, getting them together, giving Booth the ATA gene and almost killing him. :( Hardly seems fair, does it? I mean, all my efforts and what do I have? Ummm, the headaches that coming from writing - oh, wait, that should be satisfaction, shouldn't it??? I wonder, does the satisfaction outweighs the headaches? lol Yes, they do, especially when I also get your lovely reviews.

**A/N: **Well, I told you I had the next chapter done and it wouldn't be long before I posted again. And here I am!! This is the second part of the BB scene. It was supposed be all one scene but you know me and guessing the length of scenes - I'm usually wrong. As I was for the rest of the chapters; which I'm happy to say are done! Well, all by the last one, which it's started. So, we are definitely in the final stages of this fic. Four more chapters and it'll be done!! And muse has already started working on the plot for the sequel! Thanks again to Pup for all her help, I added some things after she edited it so if there are errors, there are all mine. Hopefully, this will answer some questions I got in some reviews for the last chapters. I'm sorry it took so long to get them answered but I think this was the best way to answer them - or at least, the way musie insisted I answered them. Please let me know what you think of it!!!

**Chapter 21**

A few moments later, Brennan returned with a glass of water and helped him drink it. When he was done, Brennan turned away to put it down and Booth settled down with a sigh. When she turned back around, Booth said, "So, you've told me how the case's going; has anything else interesting happened in the last two days?"

"No, nothing," she began to shake her head but then stopped and a big grin started to spread across her face. "Well, there was this one thing," she said slowly and with a glint in her eyes that matched the grin and only increased Booth's curiosity.

"So?" he prompted when she fell silent and didn't immediately start telling him about what it was. "What happened?"

"Well, it turns out that you are _far_ more evolved than either of us previously thought," she told him, still wearing that smug, little grin.

"Huh?" was his oh so eloquent response. Brennan laughed at his confounded expression before leaning forward and kissing him lightly on the lips.

"You're adorable when you're confused," she informed him before sitting back. She started explaining before he could recover enough to comment on the 'adorable' remark. "It turns out that have you what they call the ATA gene."

"What's that?" he asked, still frowning in confusion.

"It stands for Ancient Technology Activation gene," she answered.

"Ancient? As in the people who built the Gate?" he asked and she nodded in answer. "I didn't know you needed a specific gene to activate the Gate."

"You don't," she confirmed. "Anyone who knows how to use the dialing program or the DHD can operate the Gate. The gene is only needed for the more sophisticated, sensitive and, I guess, the most dangerous of the Ancient's technology. I guess they knew it wouldn't be a good idea if their enemies got their hands on their most advanced technology so they made sure to create a built in security system."

"You mean to tell me the Ancients developed devices even more advanced than the Gate?" he asked, incredulous. "Devices even more dangerous?" At her nod, he scowled as he asked. "And we actually have these devices?"

"I'm afraid so," she told him ruefully.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," he confessed as he thought of all the damage devices more advanced than the Gate could bring if they were to fall in the wrong hands.

"I know what you mean," she agreed. "It's kind of scary to think about it; but at least, only a handful of people can use those devices," she reminded him. "You have to have the ATA gene to be able to use them and people with the gene are very rare. Daniel said that they estimate that less than 10% of the general population has it."

"But I have it?" he asked and she nodded. "Ok, I guess that's kind of cool but what does that have to do with me being more evolved than you'd thought?" His eyes opened wider and wider as she explained Thor's belief that the possessors of the gene represented the next step in Human evolution, how Thor and Sam and the rest believe that the appearance of the gene in some people corroborate their theory that we're the second evolution of our kind on Earth and with the Ancients being the first that meant we're their descendants and Sam's belief that the reason the gene is strongest in alpha personalities is a direct result of the evolutionary process.

"How strong a gene do I have?" he asked when she finished explaining.

"As strong as the General's and Colonel Sheppard's," she replied. "According to the guys, that's as strong as it gets."

"I bet Hodgins loved hearing all about how the military guys have the strongest gene," he said and grinned impishly. "I'm sure he just _loved_ hearing that I represent the next step in our evolution," he added, savoring the words and all but cackling in glee.

"Yes," Brennan nodded and couldn't help but grin back. "He wasn't too pleased with that information."

"So, did any of you guys get tested to see if you too had the gene?" he asked her, pretty sure of the answer. There was no way the squints would not be tested; their curiosity wouldn't let them not find out.

"Yes, we did," she answered.

"And?" Booth prompted when she didn't continue.

"Only one other person has it," she told him. "You wanna guess who?" she asked him playfully, sure he wouldn't be able to guess correctly. But she should have known better than to underestimate him.

"Angela," he answered promptly without really having to think about it.

"Yes," she confirmed, astounded. "How did you know?"

"I just knew," he shrugged. "It makes sense."

"Not to anyone else," she argued.

"I guess it's just me being more evolved, then," he told her with a grin.

"You're not going to be obnoxious about this, are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Nah, not really," he waved it off. "So, how did Hodgins take it when you guys found out that it's Angela that has the gene and not him? He must have loved that."

"Well," Brennan answered, "he was understandably proud and," she tried to be serious and not smile but Booth's grin was infectious and in the end, she really couldn't resist. "Oh, God," she finally gave in and laughed, "you should have seen his face. He looked like he had swallowed a lemon but didn't want anyone to notice!"

"I can imagine!" Booth replied as he tried not to chuckle because he knew that would hurt a hell of a lot. "He couldn't very well let his wife know that he was surprised, disappointed and jealous, could he?"

"No," Brennan shook her head. "Not that he did a very good job of disguising what he was feeling."

"Angela would have known what he was thinking even if he had done a great job," he told her.

"Yes, probably," she agreed.

"I wish I could have seen his face, though," Booth said, grinning and shaking his head. "I really wish I could have seen his face; I bet it was priceless."

"Well, maybe you can," she mused.

"How?"

"I'm pretty sure that everything that happens in this ship is recorded somewhere," she answered. "I'll see if maybe I can get a recording of that particular conversation so you can see it."

"That'll be great, Bones," his eyes danced in anticipated merriment. "I'm sure having that recording might just make the time I spend tied to this bed pass if not quicker then at least not as boring."

"I'll see what I can do, then," she promised.

"Thanks, Bones; you're the best," he praised her and immediately saw a shadow pass over her face. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she answered, smiling to show him there was nothing wrong but Booth knew her too well and knew there was something off.

"It's not nothing," he argued. "And I don't think it's about me being shot, at least not only about that, so don't bother saying it is."

"It's nothing, Booth," she started to deny there was anything wrong, but he stopped her.

"Bones, I _know_ you," he told her. "I know there's something more bothering you than what you already told me. So, please don't trouble yourself with lying because I know you're lying and you know I'll just keep asking you until you tell me. To save us all of that, just tell me what's wrong. Please?"

"I . . ." she began to deny there was anything wrong again but then she remembered what Angela had told her and, knowing he would keep asking until she talked, she decided it would be best all around to just tell him. So, she told him how she'd been tempted to tell Janet to perform the conventional procedure because she was afraid of him going back out into the field later on, how guilty she felt knowing she almost made the choice she knew he wouldn't have made and how Angela had said that it wasn't really a big deal and that he would understand.

"Angela's right," he said when she finished speaking. "It's not that big a deal."

"But Booth, I knew you would want to take the chance," she insisted. "I knew you would find it incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to adjust to a life where you couldn't be as physical as you're used to – where you couldn't go into the field or wrestle with Parker. I knew all that and yet I still almost told Janet to perform the conventional surgery. All because I was scared and I didn't want you to put yourself in danger again. How can you ever forgive me? I was so selfish and I . . ."

"Bones, stop," he told her, taking a hold of her hand and squeezing it. "Stop! You're many things but selfish is one thing you are not."

"But I almost took away your chance to be whole again," she protested. "Only because I was . . ."

"You were scared," he finished for her. "You were scared and you were tempted to do something so that you wouldn't be that scared again. That's a normal reaction, Temperance; a completely normal reaction and there's nothing wrong with it."

"But . . ."

"But nothing," he said firmly. "You did nothing wrong; yes, you were tempted but we're all tempted at one time or another, Bones. We're all faced with temptations a few times a day; it's not whether we're tempted that speaks to our character but how we act in the face of that temptation. That's what matters, Bones; not what we're tempted to do but what we actually _do_. And in the end, you did what was right – not what you were tempted to do, not what would have given you the easy out but what you knew was the right thing, what you knew was that I would want. That is all anyone can ask of another – that is all we can expect of each other; that in the end we'll do what's right."

"But Booth I . . ." she started to say again.

"No," he stopped her. "No more buts, Bones. You have to let this go; there's nothing for you to feel guilty about. I think I'd have been more worried if you hadn't hesitated even for a second," he informed her. "I know that if it had been you on that table and I was the one making the decision, I too would have been tempted to ensure you wouldn't put yourself in danger again."

"That's what Angela said."

"Well, Angela's a very smart woman," he told her. "Must be that she's more evolved than the rest of you guys." He winked at her as he said it and she rolled her eyes.

"You two _are_ going to milk that for quite a long time, aren't you?" she asked.

"Maybe," he shrugged and smiled. "You okay now?" he asked her, sobering up. "There's no reason for you to feel guilty. And everything worked out in the end; I'm fine and will make a full recovery."

"I know," she nodded. "And I couldn't be happier about it."

"Me neither," he whispered as his eyes half-closed. He didn't want to admit it, but he was tired and could probably do with some rest. But he didn't want to sleep yet; he wanted to keep talking to her.

"Booth?" she said a few moments later, sounding tentative.

"Umm," he answered, gently shifting once again.

"Are you about to fall asleep?" she asked, seeing how closed his eyes were and how relaxed he'd gotten.

"No, not quite yet," he shook his head and opened his eyes fully to look at her. "Why?"

"I was thinking," she began and he chuckled.

"Ouch, don't make me laugh, Bones," he complained.

"I wasn't trying to make you laugh," she protested, frowning at him. "I don't think I said anything funny."

"No, you wouldn't think it was funny, I guess," he agreed. "It's just that you said you'd been thinking as if that was something new when you're always thinking; I mean, seriously, when _aren't_ you thinking?" He grinned again and clutched his ribs to remind himself chuckling wouldn't be a good idea.

"Are you done?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"For now," he answered cheekily before he nodded and added, "Yeah, I'm done. What's on your mind?"

"Well," she said as she looked down and started to pick on stray threads in his blanket. The action had Booth raising an eyebrow; indecision, hesitation and delaying were not Bones's style. He shifted in bed to turn more towards her.

Brennan hesitated a moment longer, unsure whether she should say something or not. Actually, she was pretty sure this was not the moment to say anything; he was tired and needed his rest – he had already been up longer than she had thought he'd be up, longer than he probably should have been up and much longer than Janet would have liked. But she had been waiting for the past three days already; first to hear how the raid had gone, then to find out whether they could help him, then had come the interminable hours to see if he would make it through the surgery and then finally, she'd had to wait for him to wake up. It felt like she had waited forever to see his eyes open, to hear his voice, to finally feel him with her again. And now there he was and she knew she should let him rest but telling him what had happened the last couple of days had brought it all back. Not only the feelings but also the impulses and ideas those feelings had given her and which had taken her completely by surprise. She should wait but she couldn't; she needed to talk with Booth about them – needed to know what he thought about it.

"I know we've only been together about six months," she finally said, lifting her eyes up to his. "But what do you think about us moving in together?"

"Moving in together?" Booth asked; his eyes once again wide open in surprise.

"Yes," she nodded, keeping her eyes on his. "I know it's kind of sudden and early in our relationship," she hastened to explain when he didn't say anything, "but, we spend basically all our time together. If I don't stay at your place, you're staying at mine. And sometimes it's very inconvenient because we don't have the things we need and we have to run back to our own place and then we're late for work and . . ."

And she was babbling; Booth couldn't believe it, first she'd asked if he would like to move in together and now she was babbling. He felt like asking her who she was and where was his Bones but decided that wouldn't be the best thing to do right then. She might think he was trying to put her off and didn't want to move in with her.

"Bones," he said, but she was too busy listing all the reasons why having two apartments was inconvenient when they spent every night together to listen to him. "Bones," he repeated. "Temperance!" he fairly shouted and then had to grimace at the sharp stab of pain it produced but it finally caught her attention and she stopped talking.

"Temperance," he repeated, "I would love to move in with you. But," he couldn't help but add, "what brought this on?"

"You almost died, Booth," she repeated what she'd said at the beginning of the conversation. "You came very close to dying; much closer than anyone should get and still survive."

"I know, Bones," he said, softly. "I know but I did survive and I'll be fine." He paused and wondered whether he would be shooting himself in the foot if he continued but in the end, he knew he had to. "Do you really think this is the best time to make this kind of decision, though? I mean, you just went through a very tough time; you're still extremely upset, maybe we should wait until I'm a little better and you're calmer before we make a decision as big as moving in together." He hated the thought of putting it off and maybe having her change her mind later, but he'd feel as if he was taking advantage of her if he took her up on the offer now.

"Booth," she said, sounding very sure of herself because all of a sudden she was very sure of herself. It was funny but despite all the upheaval, worry and fear of the past few days, or maybe because of it all, she knew exactly what she wanted. She might be scared at what she'd suddenly realized she wanted in her future but she was sure of it. "I have been upset, how can I not be with all that's happened? But I am not hysterical; I have thought things through and I know exactly what I'm saying and I what I want. And," she added, bracing a little even as she looked him right in the eye, "Moving in together is not the only thing we should do. I," she faltered a little before taking a deep breath and saying, "I think we should get married."

"Wh. . wh…?" his eyes opened so wide, they almost popped out and though his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, he couldn't quite make any words come out he was so surprised. And again the question 'who are you and where's my Bones' flashed through his mind. "What did you just say?" He was finally able to ask.

"I'm not saying we have to get married right now," she said in lieu of an answer. "We can wait a while but I still think we should start thinking about it . . ." She was babbling again but she couldn't help it, the look of dismayed surprise on his face was unnerving.

"Bones," he said but she kept talking. "Temperance! Hold on one minute. I'm a little confused here; are you really talking about marriage? I mean, are you seriously saying you want to get married?"

"Yes," she nodded. "That is exactly what I'm saying," she continued in a firm and calm voice, because she might be nervous but she was still sure of what she was saying. "Are you saying you don't want to?" And here, her voice did break a little because she might be sure about what she wanted but it had never really occurred to her that he might not want the same thing and the idea that he might not wasn't something she'd prepared herself for.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," he shook his head and tried to sit up only to curse as he once more realized he really couldn't move. "I'm fine, don't worry, I'm fine," he said, waving off her concern before she could start to ask about it. He took a deep breath and went back to the topic at hand. "Look, Temperance, you can't blame me for being surprised here. I mean, not so long ago, you didn't even believe in monogamy; you thought that it went against human's natural impulses or some such thing. And you thought marriage was an archaic institution that objectified and degraded women. So, you can see why I'm more than a little surprised, can't you?"

"I changed my mind about monogamy," she replied, sounding a little stiff. "Well, maybe not completely. I mean, if the goal of mating is to reproduce then having more than one mate is obviously the more efficient . . . but," she interrupted herself when she saw Booth's eyes, "that doesn't really matter if you actually fall in love. I wouldn't be with you, Booth, and I wouldn't have told you that I love you if I hadn't understood that sometimes you _want_ to be with only one person. And that it has nothing to do with a biological imperative but everything to do with love."

"Okay, you're right," he nodded. "You changed your mind about monogamy or you expanded your definition of it," he added when he saw her open her mouth to correct him. "Whatever, your opinion on it changed. I get that; I understand that. But, marriage, Bones? You haven't said anything about this before; so where is this coming from?"

"I thought you wanted to get married," she told him, frowning at him.

"Whether I want to marry you or not is not the issue here, Bones," he said.

"I think it is," she argued. "If you don't want to marry me, all you have to do is say so."

"You're not going to change the subject, Temperance," he told her firmly. "I'm not going to let you. We both know my thoughts on marriage and I thought we both knew yours but you seem to have changed the playing field on me and I want to know why. Marriage is too important for me to let this go, Bones," he told her before she could argue. "I need to know why you changed your mind before I can even begin to talk about us getting married."

"When we were talking about what type of surgery you should have, Janet wasn't sure who had the authority to make the actual decision," she told him and had him blinking his eyes in confusion as it seemed a complete and random change of subject.

"You're my medical proxy, Bones," he answered nevertheless. "And you have power of attorney, which I assumed you told her since I know you're the one that made the decision."

"Yes, I did."

"Then I don't really see the connection here," he said, puzzled.

"She didn't know, Booth," she repeated. "I had to tell her and if she'd been anyone else, I might have had to prove it. I didn't like that; I don't like the fact that sometimes I might have to prove that I have the right to make decisions for you. I want to have that right and I want everyone to know that I have that right and if we were married, no one would even think to question me."

"But you're my medical proxy, Bones, you do have that right," he told her slowly. "And," he added just as slowly, "not wanting to be questioned when making decisions in my stead is not a good enough reason to get married. I'm sorry, but it's not. Marriage is a lifetime commitment and just wanting other people to know you have rights over me is not enough. That's almost the same as saying you want to marry me so that everyone knows I'm off the market and that . . . just doesn't cut it."

Privately Brennan thought that was another very good reason to get married; if having a ring would mean women would stop 'checking him out', as Angela would say, she was all for it. But she knew better than to say it aloud. Besides, she did have other reasons for wanting to get married.

"That wasn't all," she shook her head as she pushed herself from the chair and took a few steps aside before she started pacing. "It was what put the thought in my head first," she admitted, "but it's not why I decided it was a good idea."

"Then what was it that made you decide it was a good idea?" he asked, as he saw her pace back and forth a few times before she perched on the edge of his bed.

"While you were in surgery," she started to explain, "we all waited out on the bridge. The others paired up and sat down but I was too . . . restless to sit down, so I went to stand by this . . . window and right beneath it was the Earth. I was standing there, watching the Earth slowly rotate beneath my feet and waiting to hear whether you'd live or die. It was one of the most surreal moments of my life. I couldn't quite grasp the concept that at any moment Janet could walk in and tell me you hadn't made it; I couldn't even think what life would be like if you were no longer there – what _my_ life would be like without you in it. I just . . . it didn't make any sense to me. I was standing there waiting to hear if the world as I knew it had ended and I was so scared and I didn't know if I had what it took; I didn't know if I could go through that again – and I knew that there was a very good chance that if you made it, I might find myself right back there," she knew she was repeating herself but if he was to understand where she was coming from, he had to know how she got there. "And then Sam came and talked to me and she made a lot of sense; she reminded me of how much I love you and that what we have is worth fighting for." She paused as she thought back to those moments.

"Afterwards, she just stood next to me, not saying anything just kept me company while we waited. I was surrounded by people that cared about me and about you and I knew that they too were waiting to hear and that they were worried also but I also knew that even if you . . . died," her voice broke a bit but she cleared her throat and continued. "If you died, they would be sad but they wouldn't be devastated – their lives would continue on as before. They might miss you and think about you from time to time, but they would go on. And then it occurred to me that the same was true for all those people that were down there on Earth. You had been fatally wounded trying to stop an alien from taking over the world and no one knew or cared. The world had been on the brink of ending on more than a few occasions and the only reason it hadn't was SG1 and the rest of the SGC but no one knows and I'm not even sure if they'd care if they did know." She shook her head and took a deep breath before she could continue.

"People just go on with their lives worrying about their work, their families, their affairs – and they don't realize just how . . . small their lives are, how small our lives are compared to what's out there. _I_ hadn't realized how . . . insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things until I was standing there on that bridge waiting to hear if you were going to live or die. And I realized that all my fears were just as small and insignificant because at the end of the day, what do we have except each other? Yes, in the grand scheme of things each of us is probably of very small consequence but here, on Earth and in each other's lives the persons we love are the most important thing there is. _You_ are the most important thing in _my_ life; the rest of the world, the rest of the universe might take very little notice if you live or die but for me, the world would stop if you died. And I don't want any more time to go by without you knowing that; I don't want to spend any more time waiting for later because as the last few days have shown me, we might not have a later. I don't want to wait eight years like Sam and the General before we get our 'happy ending'. I want to spend my life with you and I want to have a family with you – I want us to be a family and I want to start it now.

"And yes, I might not need a piece of paper to prove my commitment but I know you do; I know you won't feel we're a family without it. And more than that, I realized that we don't live on an island, we live in a society that has rules and norms and those rules and norms say that a family is comprised of a married couple. And you know what? I do want people to know you're off the market; I want people to know you belong to me and I belong to you because belonging to you won't make me less. I won't lose who I am by belonging to you; I think that being with you, belonging to you makes me more – it makes me a better, more rounded person. You make me a better person. We're partners, Booth, at work and at home and I want to make that official. I want to have a home with you, I want a family with you and I want everyone to know that because I love you and I'm proud of being with you. So," she finished, with a small shrug, "that's why I think we should get married."

"Okay," he said a few moments later as he nodded his head and cleared his throat. "Okay, those are all very good reasons to get married – very good reasons, indeed. Probably the best I've ever heard. So, let's get married," he added with a foolish, ear to ear grin.

"Yes, let's," she agreed with an equal grin.

"Now, come on down here," he told her, pulling on her hand. "It's tradition that the couple kiss after deciding to get engaged, and I can't come up there." She grinned and leaned down. "Can I tell everyone that you were the one to propose?" he asked just before her lips touched his.

"Sure," she agreed, her lips hovering less than an inch from his. "If you want to admit that the girl beat you to it." Without waiting for a reply, she closed the distance between them and they shared their first kiss as an engaged couple.


	22. Chapter 22

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, not mine.

**A/N: **Well, here's the next chapter. I'm sorry about the delay but you know how real life can get sometimes. I have the next three chapters done and just have to do the epilogue. It shouldn't take too long; it should definitely be done by the time it should be up. Well, thanks as always to Pup for all her help and for everyone that reviewed! I'm sorry I didn't get around to replying to you guys but you have to know how much each and every review means to me.

**Chapter 22**

"He's sleeping," a voice whispered somewhere over Booth. It took a moment, but Booth finally recognized Hodgins' voice.

"Should we wake him up?" Since he was now more awake, Booth instantly recognized Angela's voice – even if she was whispering too. Apparently, they didn't want to wake him accidentally by speaking too loud.

"No, I don't think we should," the answer was given by Camille, who seemed to be farther away than Angela and Hodgins. Booth guessed that she was standing by the foot of the bed, going over the chart Booth knew Janet had left hanging there. "He needs to rest; if he's asleep, we should let him be."

"But we haven't talked to him yet," Angela protested.

"I know," Camille replied. "We'll just have to come back when he is awake and talk to him then."

"When will that be?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, it's been three days already since his surgery," Hodgins added, "and he's slept through most of them."

"Booth had an incredibly complicated surgery; his body has suffered massive trauma. He needs time and rest to recuperate; right now, sleep is the best thing for him. Waking him wouldn't be a good idea. Besides, you know what Janet told us – we weren't to tax him or agitate him and we could only stay a few minutes because he needs to rest. Do you really think she'll be pleased if she found out we woke him up?"

"We wouldn't have to tell her, would we?" Hodgins asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised if this place was wired and she found out whether we tell her or not," Camille retorted. "But even if she doesn't find out, the best thing we can do for Booth right now is to let him rest. We can come back in a couple of hours and hopefully, he'll be awake."

"Cam's right, Angie," Hodgins said. "We should leave and come back in a couple of hours."

"But I still haven't talk to him," Angela protested.

"You can talk to him in a couple of hours," Hodgins told her.

"It's just . . . it's just that until I talk to him . . ." Angela trailed off but Hodgins finished the thought for her.

"Until you talk to him and you see he's fine for yourself, you won't actually believe he'll be okay."

"Yes," Angela whispered, nodding.

"We all feel like that, Angie," Hodgins said as Camille and a silent Zack nodded. "But he'll be fine. You know he'll be fine; Janet wouldn't have said so otherwise."

"Yeah, I know . . . I know," Angela agreed and Booth could imagine her nodding. "It's just . . . and I know there've been other close calls, but this is as close as it can get and still have a positive outcome. I don't think I've been this scared since the gravedigger took you and Brennan but this was different because then we could _do_ something – then we could and did look for you until we found you but now. . ." she trailed off and Booth could hear her take a deep breaths to calm herself; he couldn't help but feel guilty at pretending to be asleep when it was obvious how troubled she was. He'd known how upset Bones had been at his shooting but he hadn't realized how much it had affected Angela and the other squints too.

"But now," Angela continued a few seconds later, "we couldn't do anything but wait around and hope for the best. And that just . . ."

"That just sucked," Hodings finished for her. From his tone of voice, Booth could imagine the other man's grimace and found that he agreed with both of them; sitting around waiting to find out if your loved one would live or die and not be able to do anything would most definitely suck. Especially, for a group of people who were used to doing, not waiting – a group of people who were used to finding the answers themselves and not depending on others to save the day.

"We all feel like you do, Angela," Camille was saying. "But for now, the best thing for him is to rest and we should definitely not wake him up when he's asleep."

"Who's asleep?" Booth asked, groggily and blinked his eyes open; he really couldn't let them walk away when they were so worried and he was awake enough. "How can anyone sleep with all this racket going on?"

"Booth!" Angela called out, grinning in relief at finally seeing him awake, aware and speaking. "You're awake!"

"Way to state the obvious, Ange," her husband mumbled while Booth grinned up at the artist and answered.

"Yes, I am."

"How are you feeling?" she asked him and then waved that question away when Booth just looked at her. "Forget it; that's a stupid question. You probably feel like crap."

"Well, I don't know how crap feels," Booth told her. "But if it feels like a couple of bullets went to town in its abdomen and played soccer with its organs then yes, I feel like crap."

"Oh, sweetie," Angela commiserated as she patted his hand. "You hurting a lot?"

"Not a lot," Booth shook his head. "Fortunately, they have me on some pretty awesome drugs; though, I'm sure I'm going to be in a world of hurt soon enough." Having beaten one addiction already in his life, Booth was not about to risk getting addicted to anything else. He was not swapping one addiction for another.

"Well," Camille said from her position by the foot of Booth's bed. "According to your chart, you're doing extremely well – much better than anyone with your type of injuries could be expected to be doing." She crossed her arms and studied him thoughtfully. "You were extremely lucky, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he nodded. "If the General, Colonel Carter and Vala hadn't been there, I'd probably be dead right now."

Camille nodded her agreement even as she grimaced at the thought. Angela tightened the hand that was wrapped around Hodgins and shook her head as if to shake off bad thoughts before she forced herself to grin widely and look down at him.

"But you're going to be fine," she told him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "And I'm sure that's mainly in part to that special gene you have – the one that means you're more evolved than the rest of . . . well, not _us _because I have it too, you know? But the rest of humanity." When she finished speaking she turned that impish grin on her husband, who could only smile weakly back at her.

Bones had been right, Hodgins' face was priceless – he did look as if he'd swallowed a whole lemon and was trying to make it look as if he'd eaten a sweet. As before, he wasn't very successful; his smile was more a grimace than anything else. Thankfully, for him, his wife knew him well enough to not take offense. If the glimmer in her eyes and the smirk in her lips was any indication, she actually found the whole situation rather amusing. Which Hodgins did not like at all, if his developing frown was any indication.

Booth found the whole situation very entertaining and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him – just as he couldn't help the hiss of pain the movement caused. He took a couple of deep breaths even as he waved off both Angela and Camille, who had moved as if to help him. "I'm okay, I'm okay. Just give me a moment."

"You probably shouldn't laugh, Agent Booth," Zack said, speaking up for the first time. Booth glared at him but the wide-eyed look Zack gave him made him bite back the 'ya think, genius?' retort that was on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he took another deep breath and turned to the girls, whose grins had morphed into concerned looks. He was once again struck by how much his shooting had affected the squints; Bones had been right, they were more than friends, they were family and what happened to one happened to all of them. He'd known that but he guessed he'd just needed a reminder.

"I'm okay; don't worry," Booth told them with a smile before turning back to Angela and the previous topic. "Yeah, Bones told me about the gene," he nodded before adding, "though, I don't think she said anything about it having helped me make it."

"Yeah, well, it's only a guess on Janet's part," Angela shrugged, "but I think it makes sense."

"She theorized that people with the gene are not only stronger but also have greater stamina and endurance," Zack expanded on Angela's answer. "From her observations, it seems like people with the gene recuperate faster from injuries that would kill almost anyone else." If looks could kill, the glares that Angela and Camille threw at Zack would have reduced the young genius into a puddle of goo at their feet.

"Really?" Booth asked, more than a little interested. "So, does that mean that I might not be laid up as long as the doc said?"

"Well, how long did she say it would take?" Camille asked as she turned to look at Booth.

"She said that it could take from three to six months," Booth answered. He was all but pouting.

"Three months – that's not that long," Angela said, sounding upbeat about it.

"But it could take up to six months," Booth insisted. "Six months before I could be out in the field again." Angela was amused to see the big, strapping FBI agent, who'd been known to make interns run away crying, whining and pouting as a little boy who'd been told his bedtime had been moved up an hour.

"And you could be up and about in three months," Angela countered. "Isn't that what you just said?"

"Yeah, but. . ." Booth started to complain once more but Camille stopped him.

"Oh, for God's sake, Seeley," Camille exclaimed, sounding exasperated. "Do you have any idea just how close you came to dying? You lost almost half your blood volume, you were on the verge of major organ failure and you needed transplant for four of your organs! Four, Seeley," she repeated, "not one, four. It's a miracle you're even alive; if it wasn't for Asgard technology, you'd probably be dead – given your injuries, you probably should be dead." She paused to take a deep breath and noted that everyone was looking at her in surprise; this was one of the few times they'd seen the usually cool and calm Dr. Soroyan that upset. But she was the only medical doctor on the team and maybe that meant that she was the only one that knew just how close to dying Booth had really gotten.

"Three days after one of the most experimental surgeries I've ever heard about and here you are, alive, awake and aware – and whining about how long it'll take for you to be out in the field again when by all rights you should barely be awake, looking not only at months of recovery but also to taking a handful of pills every day for the rest of your life – not to mention being at a much greater risk for all kind of infections and limited physical activity. Thanks to that Asgard technology, however, you're going to be skipping all of that and instead in six months, at most, you will have a clean bill of health, will not need to take any pills or have any limits in what you can and can not do. So, do you think you can maybe be glad to be alive and happy about the fact that you have a bright future to look forward to and _not_ whine about how long it's going to take you to get there?"

"I'm not whining," he protested but stopped when he realized that it did sound as if he was whining. "And I am happy to be alive," he insisted.

"You're not really acting like it," Camille told him. She then shook her head and added, "And you better not do anything dumb like trying to rush through your recovery."

"Oh, come on, Camille," Booth started to protest but she didn't let him.

"Don't 'Camille me', Seeley," she stopped him. "I know you but I hope you'll be smart enough not to do anything stupid. Though, I'm sure Dr. Brennan will rein you in if you start to get out of control."

"I'm not a child that Bones has to 'rein in', for God's sake, Camille," Booth rolled his eyes. "And what is it with everyone telling me not to rush my recovery? Like I'd do anything to jeopardize getting back on my feet, geez," he mumbled not quite under his breath and had Angela laughing and Camille rolling her eyes. She opened her mouth to comment but a voice from the doorway beat her to it.

"Not on purpose," Brennan said from the doorway, "but pushing beyond your limits can be counterproductive. We wouldn't have to say anything if you were reasonable, rational and mature about this but we know you. We know the last thing you'll be is reasonable, rational and mature about your recovery so I'm sure we'll have to remind you a few more times in the coming months."

By the time she'd finished talking, she had walked to Booth's bedside and Booth was mock glaring at her.

"You're not funny, Bones," Booth pouted.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Brennan said as she leaned down to drop a kiss on his forehead in greeting. The move surprised the rest of the squints as she was not an affectionate person and had always been very careful about PDAs.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she straightened.

"Okay," Booth answered; the good drugs seemed to be wearing off a little but there was no use in saying so as he knew he was in for a world of hurt before it was over.

"I'd thought you'd be asleep still," she told him as she frowned at the squints as if blaming them for waking him up.

"Nah, it was time to wake up," he said and started to shrug before he remembered that it wouldn't be a good idea. "So," he said, changing the subject before she could change the visual accusation she was making into an actual, verbal one. "Did you decide to go home, after all?" He asked her, motioning to the new set of clothes she was wearing.

"No," she told him, reluctantly taking her eyes from the others around his bed and looking down at him. "Angela brought me a clean set of clothes and I just freshened up," she explained. Booth had tried to talk her into going home to rest but she had been adamant that she wouldn't be leaving the ship without him. "I did talk to Parker," she added, quickly changing the subject before he could start on another lecture about how she needed to take care of herself and how she wouldn't be helping him if she let herself be run down.

"How is he?" he wanted to know. "What did he say? Is he okay? Did he . . .?"

"Calm down, Booth," Brennan told him. "I'll answer all your questions if you give me a minute," she paused for him to lie still again before she answered. "He's fine; he misses you and wants to know when he's going to see you again – but he's fine. He's still enjoying pre-K, has made a few new friends and wants to join a soccer team . . ."

"A soccer team?!" Booth asked, interrupting Brennan and not sounding pleased at the news. "Why would he want to join a soccer team for?"

"To play soccer," Brennan answered in a tone that said the answer was obvious. "I think it's a great idea that he joins a sports team – it'll help develop his socializing skills and provide the physical activity kids need . . ."

"I know all that, Bones," Booth stopped her again. "And I agree with you – it is a great idea that he joins a sports team. But why soccer and not football? Or hockey? Those are great sports."

"Soccer is a great sport too," Brennan argued. "In fact, it's the number one sport in pretty much all of the world – except the US."

"That may be, Bones," Booth told her. "But Parker happens to live in the US and not the rest of the world. He should be playing football."

"I'm sure he'll play football too, Booth," Brennan reassured him, trying her best to not roll her eyes. "But right now, his friends are into soccer and he wants to play with them. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"No, I guess not," he grudgingly agreed.

"He also told me to tell you," Brennan continued telling him what Parker had been up to, "that he's drawn you a picture and will give it to you as soon as he sees you and he's been practicing his letters. He can now spell his name, yours, Rebecca's . . . and mine."

"Parker's learned to spell your name?" Angela asked, almost cooing. "That's so sweet!"

"Yes," Brennan smiled softly before frowning down at Booth. "But it prompted a chat between Rebecca and Parker's teacher where the teacher asked who 'Dr. Bones' was. And even though Rebecca then told Parker that my real name's Temperance, Parker still insists my name is 'Dr. Bones' because that's what his daddy told him." Though she sounded annoyed, everyone there knew she really wasn't, though everyone bursting out laughing didn't really endear them to her.

"That's my boy," Booth replied, grinning and nodding at Brennan who couldn't keep up the irritated front and smiled back at him. "I wish I could see him," he said in a soft tone a few moments later, sobering up a little.

"I know," Brennan said, just as softly. "And he really wants to see you too; that's why I was thinking that maybe we could set up a video conference. I know it's not the same as being in the same room," she began to defend her idea when he just looked at her without saying anything. "Or being able to hug him but I just thought it'd be better than nothing." She sort of trail off at the end and shrugged one shoulder. She was about to apologize for the whole thing and tell him to forget it when he finally spoke.

"It is much better than nothing, Bones," he told her, grinning up at her. "I'd love to be able to see him. Do you think we can do it?"

"I don't see why not," Brennan answered before she looked at Angela. "What do you think?"

"Why are you asking me?" the artist asked, looking back at Brennan in surprise.

"Because you know more about computers than we do," Brennan said as if it was obvious.

"If you need a facial reconstruction or a virtual tour of a crime scene, I'm your gal," Angela replied. "But interplanetary communication is a little out of my skill range."

"Interplanetary communication implies that the communication would occur between two planets," Brennan corrected her best friend. "And we're not on another planet, so it can't be interplanetary . . ."

"Ok, ok," Angela stopped Brennan before the good doctor could really get started on a lecture. "Whatever you want to call the communication between someone on Earth and someone in orbit, sweetie, I wouldn't even begin to know how to set that up. You're going to have to talk to Thor."

"I was afraid of that," Brennan said under her breath. "Do you think you could talk to . . . him for us, Ange?"

"Me?" Angela asked, surprised once again. "Why me?"

"Because you seem to have a . . . rapport with him that I don't have," Brennan explained.

It was true; while she had seen the little gray man a handful of times and talked to him even less than that, Angela had already had more than half a dozen conversations with him. Brennan wasn't sure whether that was the result of the Asgards' interest in everyone that has the ATA gene or whether it was due to Angela trying to keep her husband from irritating the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet by 'exploring' everything in sight and getting jettisoned out of an airlock or whether it was just the natural result of Angela's effortless charm. It could also have been a mix of all three.

"Okay, I'll talk to him," Angela gave in. How could she not when confronted not only with Brennan asking but also with Booth's puppy eyes. "I don't think there'll be any problems."

"Thanks, Angela," Booth told her, smiling up at her. "That would really mean a lot to both me and Parker."

"No problem," Angela waved off the thanks just as Zack spoke up once again.

"But are you sure having a recording of Parker is a good idea?" Zack asked, looking between Brennan and Angela. Camille, Angela and Hodgins looked at him as if he'd grown another head. If Camille's and Angela's earlier glares would have turned Zack into a puddle of goo, the glare Brennan sent him at that moment would have vaporized him.

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" Booth asked, frowning. "Bones?" Booth looked up at Brennan as he repeated the question, "why wouldn't it be a good idea?"

"It's nothing really," Brennan tried to downplay it. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"If that's true," Booth told her, "you shouldn't have any problem in telling me about it."

"I . . . okay," she concurred with a sigh. Before she continued, though, she threw Zack another glare and made the younger man wish the floor would just open up and swallow him or at the very least that he could run out of that room. "I'll tell you but please try and remain calm," she told Booth as she tightened her hand on his. She then told him how the Asgards were a dying race and how they were sure that humans had the answer to all their problems – especially humans with the ATA gene.

It took Booth less than five seconds to figure out what the problem was. It dawned on Brennan once more that he really was a lot smarter than he usually let people think he was.

"And because this is a gene," he said, "it's most likely inherited, isn't it?"

"That's the assumption," Brennan agreed.

"That means that it's very probable that Parker has the gene," Booth said, sounding agitated. "And that means that he might have whatever the Asgards are looking for . . . he might be in danger. I need to . . ." Though Brennan hadn't mentioned anything about 'alien abductions', Booth was savvy enough to read between the lines.

"Calm down, Booth," Brennan told him as she put her hand on his shoulder to keep him lying down when he tried to sit up.

"Calm down?" Booth asked, incredulously. "How can I calm down, Bones, when you tell me that aliens with the ability to destroy the world in minutes and with 'beam me up Scottie' and warp drive technology are after my son?!!"

"But he's fine, Booth." Brennan told him. "I thought the same thing but I talked to the General and he assured me that Parker's safe and that he'll stay safe."

"How can he be sure, though?" Booth frowned; under normal circumstances General O'Neill's assurances would be more than enough for Booth but these were far from normal circumstances. His son's safety was at stake and Booth needed more than that before he was satisfied.

"He's sure the Asgards are not in the habit of harming children," she answered. "I think he's right; whatever the Asgards want, chances are they won't get it by harming children. Besides, he's already talked to Thor and let him know that Parker's under his personal protection." General O'Neill had actually sought her out a couple of days ago to tell her that he'd already spoken with Thor about Parker and that it was all taken care of.

"And you think the Asgard will listen to him?" Booth asked; he wanted to believe his son was safe but it was too important to simply take on faith.

"I think they will," it was Angela who answered. "From everything Vala's told me, General O'Neill is something of a hero to the Asgards. He, and SG1, have saved the Asgards more than once."

"It seems like he and SG1 have made it a hobby to save the world, haven't they?" Hodings asked, grinning.

"That should be 'worlds'' – they've made it a hobby to save different worlds, shouldn't it?" Zack asked.

"Actually," Angela corrected both of them with a smug look on her face. "That should be 'galaxies' – they've saved a couple of galaxies a few times."

It was said as a joke and for a few moments everyone grinned but it didn't take long for it to dawn on them that it really wasn't a joke or an exaggeration – their newfound friends had made a habit of saving the world and had saved more than one galaxy more than once. What was that saying? 'The difficult takes a few moments, the impossible a little longer.' That seems to be the motto SG1 and General O'Neill live by.

They'd known from the beginning the kind of incredible things SG1 and General O'Neill dealt with on a daily basis; they had even gone off-world and seen things they'd never even dreamed existed. But as much as they saw, they hadn't really understood the enormity of it because knowing something and assimilating what it means are two different things. Even now, they really couldn't wrap their minds around it. So, Brennan did the logical thing and left that subject alone and went back to last subject.

"The General's sure the Asgard will listen to him," she answered Booth's last question. "But he also told me that he's thinking of other security measures."

"Like what?" Booth asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure," she shook her head. "He told me that he'll talk to you about them once he's ironed them out. He did mention something about talking to Thor to delete any mention of Parker from the ship's logs."

"That sounds like a very good idea," Hodgins said and everyone looked at him in silent question. "Well, think about it. The only one that knows that Parker exists is Thor so there are only two ways for the rest of the Asgards to find out about him: either Thor tells them, which we all agree is not likely at all or they read it in the ship's logs. I'm assuming here, but if the Asgard fleet is anything like the military here, then they have to file reports on all their missions and quite a few people could have access to them. But if Thor deletes all mention of Parker, there would be nothing for anyone to find and Parker should be perfectly safe."

"You're right," Booth said, nodding slowly a few moments later. He felt much better because what Hodgins said made a lot of sense. After all, the best way to keep a secret was to tell it to no one.

But while Hodgins' explanation had calmed Booth down, it seemed to have the opposite effect on Brennan.

"Wait a minute," she said with an edge on her tone. "That might keep Parker safe – and that's great. Don't get me wrong, I'm relieved about that," she added looking down at Booth. "But what about Booth? The General didn't say anything about deleting his name from the logs."

"Well," Hodgins said, crossing his arms. "I would think that will be harder. Parker's name must have only come up a few times while Booth's not only staying in the ship but he was operated on here. Deleting every mention of him would not be possible."

"But then how is Booth going to be kept safe?" she asked. She'd been so worried about Parker and Booth's surgery that she hadn't really thought about what it meant for Booth to be on the Asgards' radar. "According to Daniel, Booth has the strongest gene after the General and Colonel Sheppard. What would keep the Asgard from coming after him? He doesn't have the back up of the SGC like the other two do!"

"Bones, calm down," Booth told her, squeezing her hand. "I'll be fine. I'm not a child like Parker. I can take care of myself."

"Against aliens with the ability to destroy the world in minutes and with 'beam me up Scottie' and warp drive technology?" she asked him.

He grimaced but didn't answer. There was nothing worse than having your own words thrown back at you.

"I know you can usually take care of yourself," she allowed a few moments later. "But these aren't usual circumstances. How would you even begin to defend yourself against them?"

Booth opened his mouth to answer but Camille beat him to it.

"I don't think you have much to worry about, Dr. Brennan," she said, looking at Brennan calmly. "SG1 and the General have repeatedly said that Booth is now a part of SG1 and we know that SG1 takes care of their own. Neither the General nor SG1 are in the habit of leaving people behind," she reminded the others. "Besides, though I don't know any details, Cameron has said enough for me to be sure that there are special safety protocols in place for people with the ATA gene. And that's not counting the safety protocols in place for every member of the SGC, both present and past. I'm sure the General already has something in mind and will talk to Booth once he's stronger."

"Bones, I'll be fine," Booth told her, smiling at her. "You really shouldn't worry so much about me."

"Oh, come on, Booth," Angela told him with a grin. "This is Brennan you're talking to; you know how she is about protecting the people she loves. You should have seen her when she realized that Parker might be in danger. She was like a lioness protecting her young."

"Really?" Booth asked, looking pleased while Brennan shifted on her feet in embarrassment.

"Yup," Angela nodded her head. "I'm sure she would have been all over the General if he hadn't had the good sense to reassure her right off the bat."

"What was I supposed to do?" Brennan asked with an irritated sigh, trying to stop Angela from going on about it. It made her really uncomfortable. "Parker might have been in danger and Booth was in surgery. I had to do something about it."

"You just had to, huh?" Angela teased her.

"Of course I did," Brennan answered, as serious as Angela had been teasing. "He's Booth's son – of course, I had to do something." Angela blinked at the utter finality in Brennan's tone, as if Parker being Booth's son was all the reason Brennan needed to act; she supposed that for Brennan it was more than enough reason. Her amused grin changed to a gentle smile as she realized that Brennan not only loved Booth and Parker but was also aware of how much she loved them and had no problem acknowledging it publicly.

"Didn't I tell you you'd be a natural, humm?" Booth was asking Brennan with a tender grin. "But you had to prove it, didn't you?"

"I _am_ a scientist, Booth," Brennan told him archly, which only made him grin wider.

There was something different in the otherwise usual banter that made the artist look closer at the couple – Brennan had a gleam in her eye that hadn't been there the last time the two friends talked and Booth's grin, while as bright as ever, had an almost smug edge to it. Something was going on, Angela was sure of it.

"Is there something you guys want to tell us?" she asked them and then her eyes widened as Booth's comments made her think of something. "Bren, are you pregnant?"

"What?" Brennan asked her own eyes wide in surprise as Hodgins, Camille and Zack turned to look at her in astonishment. "No, of course I'm not."

"Not yet, at any rate," Booth couldn't help but add. And it was Brennan's lack of reaction at that remark that was the real surprise.

"Again, I ask," Angela told them, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Is there something you guys want to tell us?"

Booth and Brennan shared a glance before Brennan turned to Angela and delivered their news.

"Booth and I will be moving in together as soon as we find a house," Brennan said. "Though, he will also be staying with me through his convalescence." The last was said firmly and obviously directed at Booth, who just grinned back at her.

"Moving in together?" Angela repeated. "Oh, well that's nice. Congratulations."

"Expecting another sort of announcement, huh, Angela?" Booth asked, grinning. "Because you don't exactly sound as excited as we'd thought you'd be."

"No, no," Angela shook her head in denial but the knowing gleam in Booth's and Brennan's eyes had her sighing as she admitted, "I am excited. It's just that you guys might as well live together now and well . . . I guess I was expecting something else," she added with a sheepish grin and a shrug.

"Far be it for us to disappoint her, huh, Bones," Booth asked, looking up at Brennan. "Should we tell her the rest of our news?"

"What rest?" Angela asked eagerly while Booth and Brennan shared knowing glances and Hodgins, Camille and Zack looked on curiously. "Come on, you really should tell me. What other news?"

"Go ahead," Brennan told Booth. "You tell her."

"Tell me what?" Angela insisted. "Come on, someone tell me something before I die of curiosity!!"

"Very well," Booth nodded, drawing out the telling as much as possible to drive Angela even crazier. "Bones has asked me to marry her . . . and I've accepted."


	23. Chapter 23

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're not mine. I just like to borrow them and play with them. Your lovely reviews and the satisfaction I get out of playing puppet masters with their lives.

**A/N: **Well, here's the next chapter. I meant to post it last week but, as always, real life got in the way and time got away from me. I hope you like this one as much as the last one; it seems most of you were looking forward to the Angela's reaction. At first, I was going to write it at the end of last chapter, but as it usually happens with my chapters, that one ended up being longer that I was expecting. Besides, once I was actually writing, that scene wouldn't really come. So, sadly, I must tell you that while we have a 'flashback' sort of scene about Angela's reaction, that's all we'll see of it. I hope you're not too disappointed and still enjoy the chapter. Thanks to all of you that reviewed and please let me know what you think of this one too! And thanks to Pup for all her help.

**Chapter 23**

Quiet; utter and complete quiet; that was the only sound in the room. It was supposed to be conducive to relaxation and healing, which were two of the few things Booth was allowed to do at the moment. But the only thing all that quiet was accomplishing was to drive him out of his mind with boredom.

Booth was not what anyone would call a 'quiet' person. Even his quiet moments were accompanied by the radio or the TV. He did not do well when there was absolutely no sound in the room or when there wasn't something else around to distract him from the lack of sound. But there was nothing but quiet in the infirmary. There weren't even the beeps and hisses that were usual in infirmaries because the infirmary he was staying in was aboard an alien spaceship and the technology found aboard said spaceship was so advanced that it made no noise at all. And no noise equaled a not so rested, very cranky and down right impatient Booth.

If he could at least do something besides lie there, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling, which despite being an alien ceiling could only offer so much entertainment and he had already exhausted it. He was so bored, he would actually rather be doing paperwork, but even that dubious pleasure was denied him.

Cameron and Daniel had stopped by during their lunch break and he'd taken the opportunity to ask how the case was going. They had been in the middle of giving Booth a more detailed account of everything that had happened since he'd been shot than Brennan had given him when Janet walked in. And that had been the end of that; she'd summarily sent the other two men away after chastising all three. According to her, all Booth could do was rest, relax and let his body heal – nothing else. Booth had argued that talking about the case or even helping SG1 go through all the information that's been accumulated to find all the clones wouldn't really tax him and would prevent him from dying of boredom. Janet had not been impressed or moved. He could only imagine what she would say were he to ask Brennan to bring him some of his own paperwork.

He checked the clock Brennan had left and saw that it wasn't even twenty minutes since the last time he'd checked. And that had been only forty minutes after Daniel and Cameron had left and _that_ had been half an hour after Brennan had left. As he thought about it, he realized that this last forty minutes had been the longest he'd been alone since he woke up after his surgery. Brennan had been by his side every time he opened his eyes – and the one time she hadn't been there, she'd made sure the squints were so that he didn't wake up alone.

He was beyond grateful that she'd seem to always be there, that she had never left him alone. But it had been five days since his surgery and she hadn't left the spaceship at all in that time. Booth knew how hard the last few days had been on her, not only because he knew her but also because she'd told him _and _because Angela had mentioned it the day before when the squints had stopped by to visit.

It had happened right before Janet forced Angela and the rest of the squints to leave his room because they'd been making too much noise and disrupting Booth's rest. The noise, of course, had been the result of his and Brennan's announcement; they should have probably anticipated that reaction, given how enthusiastic Angela could be at the slightest good news and them getting married was as good as news got. Just before she followed the others out of the room, Angela had leaned in to give him a kiss, a hug and quieter congratulations. She also took the opportunity to tell him how glad she was that he was okay not only for his sake but also because she wasn't sure whether Brennan would have recovered if he hadn't made it.

He hadn't really needed any reminders of just how affected Brennan had been by his shooting; the bags under her eyes and the lingering shadows in them had been reminders enough. Yet Angela's words had prompted Booth to look at Brennan closer and to realize that she needed more rest or at least, to leave the ship for a few hours and to breath some fresh air and put everything that's happened out of her mind for a little while. Brennan being Brennan had argued with him when he'd made that suggestion.

She'd only agreed to go when Booth mentioned how it would probably be a good idea if she went to visit Parker for a few hours; his son knew about the shooting and though Brennan had told him Booth will would be fine, it would probably reassure him to see her say it to his face. Reassuring Parker had been the only argument she hadn't been able to refute. Once she agreed to go back to Earth for a few hours, she decided that she might as well go to her apartment and check on things. Booth had agreed and a few hours later, she'd left. That had been about two hours ago and there were probably another two hours to go before she came back. He just hoped to still be sane when she did.

Just as he was convinced that he was going to become the first ever death by boredom victim, General O'Neill walked in.

"Major," Jack said with a nod in Booth's direction.

"Sir," Booth answered, straightening as much as he could. If anyone could come at attention while lying down, Booth had just done it.

"Major, I told you to call me Jack when we're off duty," Jack commented as he came to a stop by Booth's bed.

"Yes, sir," Booth nodded. "But I don't think you're ever really off duty – even if you were _not_ wearing your uniform," he added with a pointed look at the uniform Jack was wearing.

"You might be right," Jack agreed with a not so pleased frown at the idea. "But you're definitely off duty now. And from what Doc tells me, you'll be off duty for a while yet."

"Yes, sir," Booth agreed with a grimace at the thought.

"She also tells me you're doing better," Jack said. "And that you requested she cut back on your pain meds."

"Well, I was going to have to go off them at some point," Booth replied with a one shoulder, small shrug.

"I think the Doc was thinking that point should come in about two weeks – at the earliest," Jack informed him. "She was _not_ pleased you insisted it happened today."

"I just figured the sooner the better and the faster I can get back on my feet," Booth explained. "I was also very tired of not being able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, of feeling as if I was going to float away at any moment, you know?" The long talk with Brennan the second time he woke up had been an anomaly and had only been possible because of his will power and because he'd needed to know what had been going on while he was out. But it had taken a lot of out him and he hadn't been able to stay awake for more than a few minutes since.

"I do," Jack agreed. "But you need to be relaxed and able to really rest so you can heal. You can't do that if you're in pain."

"I know, I know," Booth had heard it all from Janet before. "And I am resting. I'm awake and aware of my body but I'm not in pain. I mean, I know it's there but it's . . . distant, I don't really feel it – at least, not yet."

"That won't last long," Jack predicted. "And it's going to get worse before it gets better."

"Yes, I know," Booth nodded. "Still, I'd rather deal with it now than later." Booth was not going to be on the drugs longer than he absolutely needed to.

Jack opened his mouth as if to continue arguing but he changed his mind and closed it before nodding in acceptance of Booth's wishes. He was the last person that should be giving advice about following a doctor's orders. He might not like clichés but the one about 'the pot calling the kettle black' certainly applied in this case – his own medical history was filled with him stopping his pain meds before the doctors thought he was ready.

"So," Booth said, shifting a little on the bed. "Tell me about the case."

"Didn't Daniel and Mitchell tell you enough when they stopped by earlier?" Jack asked with a grin, demonstrating that he knew exactly what went on even when he wasn't around. Booth suddenly wondered if the General actively sought out the information or if he just received it because his wife and best friend worked for him and were so used to reporting to him that they just automatically filled him in whenever they saw him or spoke to him. And then he wondered if it wasn't a combination of the two and whether or not the General himself would know if he were to be asked.

"They tried," Booth answered with a small grin. "But Doc Frasier happened by and stopped them from finishing."

"Yeah, old Doc Frasier is funny about her patients getting their rest and not being stressed by outside forces," Jack drawled out and then grinned at the look Booth threw his way. "Ok, ok," he added, putting his hands up as if accepting defeat and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "So, where did they stop? What do you want to know?"

"Daniel said something about Major Burke possibly being a clone?" Booth asked, referring to the major that was Colonel Davis' main aide. Jack's face immediately clouded over at the reminder. Colonel Davis was his right hand man at HomeWorld Security; to have his top aide compromised opened up a whole new level of messy in an already messy situation.

"There's no more 'possibly' about it," Jack grimly answered. "Thor just confirmed that . . . the person we thought was Major Burke has the marker. She's a clone."

"Damn," Booth said softly. "I'm sorry; I know Colonel Davis really relied on her." Though most of the investigative work for the case had taken place at the Jeffersonian, Booth had gotten to know Colonel Davis fairly well in the last few weeks. "So, how bad is it?"

"Bad," Jack said simply. "But not as bad as it could be," he amended a few moments later. "Thankfully, Davis and I agreed to restrict the most sensitive information after we found those first two clones six months ago."

"But six months ago you thought the clones were all of people that had gone through the 'Gate," Booth pointed out, sounding surprised and confused. "And you accounted for everyone that had ever gone through the 'Gate within days, didn't you?" Jack nodded in answer and Booth stared at him as he thought of everything the other man had said and everything he hadn't said and everything that had happened in the last few weeks.

"You knew the disappearances of those Congressional aides were connected to whatever Ba'al was planning, didn't you?" He asked slowly, putting the pieces together.

"I thought there might be a connection, yes," Jack nodded again.

"But then why didn't you do something?" Booth asked.

"What would you have had me do?" Jack wanted to know.

"I don't know," Booth answered, shrugging and then wincing as the movement pulled his stitches. "Taken over the investigation, start testing those involved . . . something, anything." He sounded almost accusing.

"I already told you why I couldn't take over the investigation back then," Jack replied calmly; referring to the talk they'd had the day they ran into each other at Best Buy a few days before his and Sam's anniversary party. "I had a feeling all those things might be connected, but that was all it was – just a feeling. I didn't have any concrete evidence, anything solid I could point to. I couldn't very well go to the President and the Chiefs with a gut feeling and a hazy idea of how it all might fit together. I had to wait until I had some tangible evidence before I did anything. Until that happened, I did the only things I could: I waited and I watched and I tried to set down some damage control mechanisms for when the shit hit the fan – if it ever did."

"And saying anything at that point would have probably been counter productive," Booth said slowly as he followed Jack's train of thought. "If they hadn't been connected, you'd have alarmed everyone for nothing. And if they turned out to be connected, you couldn't risk letting anyone know that you suspected something else was going on."

"Exactly," Jack nodded, glad that he'd been right in thinking Booth would understand how he thought. "If I'd acted before I had concrete proof something was going on, I ran the risk of letting someone involved in the plot know that I knew and then they would have gone underground. They might have stopped whatever it was they were doing but we wouldn't have found out what that was and that left the possibility that they might try later on open. I couldn't risk that. "

"Yes, I can see that," Booth nodded and he couldn't help but sound a bit awed at how the older man's mind worked. He'd known something was going to happen six months ago; he'd actually figured out that two seemingly random strings of events were connected. The man had a brilliant strategic mind, finely tuned instincts that he knew how to listen to and one seriously developed case of paranoia. All in all, Booth wasn't sure he could ever think that clearly that far ahead – and he wasn't at all sure he'd ever want to.

"That's why you seemed to have a plan of action ready almost before we knew all the facts," Booth said a few moments later as little things started to make sense. "You've already thought about what you would do in a similar situation."

"Having contingency plans in mind for future events is part of the reason why I get paid the big bucks," Jack shrugged.

"I bet," Booth grinned. "But how did you manage to restrict information in your department? I mean, how did you decide which piece of information to restrict and how did you keep it from your staff?"

"Neither of those was easy," Jack sighed as he remembered how easy it hadn't been. "It required a high level of . . . let's say creative thinking."

"I'm sure," Booth said with a short chuckle. "What about now? What's the plan now that you've found out what's going on and who's involved?"

"That's been . . . a little harder to pin down," Jack admitted. "For one thing, even in our worst case scenario, we didn't count on quite as many clones as we'd found or for them to show up abroad too. Fortunately, the number of clones overseas is relatively low and the persons they replaced weren't very high on the political totem pole so they'll be fairly easy to . . . contain. The ones here in the States, though, are another story."

"Because if that large a number of politicians or politicians' aides were to disappear in a short amount of time, and you'd _have_ to 'contain' them all almost simultaneously or risk some of them escaping, someone would be bound to notice. It'd be all over the newspapers and there'd be questions . . . it'd be a mess."

"Precisely," Jack nodded. "It'd be one hell of a mess. Whatever we do, we won't be able to keep it under the radar so why even try?"

"What do you mean?" Booth frowned in confusion.

"Well, if we can't take care of them separately or do it so no one would know, we might as well make a splash of it."

"Make a splash . . .?" Booth repeated incredulously. "What do you me. . .?" He trailed off and his eyes widened as the general's meaning sunk in. "You mean gather them all in one place and have something happen to all of them at once?"

"Yup," Jack nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."

"But wouldn't that raise a whole lot of questions too?" Booth inquired; a tragedy of the scale the General was talking about wouldn't go by unnoticed.

"Of course," Jack nodded again and he seemed awfully chipper given the topic of conversation. "But if we do this right, it would be the right kind of questions that wouldn't really cause much trouble."

"'The right kind of questions?'" Booth asked, starting to feel a little like a parrot repeating everything after the General. "What could possibly be the right . . ." he once again trailed off and his eyes widened even more as he worked out the answer for himself. "You're going to claim it's a terrorist attack, aren't you?" This time he didn't even wait for the General's nod before he went on. "Given the current political climate no one's going to question a terrorist attack of a political summit of any kind. And while it might generate an outcry and calls for justice, they won't really question whatever you put out there or do much investigating on their own."

"Yup," Jack nodded again. "That's the plan."

"But how can you be sure that all or even most of them would show up?" Booth wanted to know. "And what would you tell those that aren't clones? Because you have to have more people there if you're going to make it seem legit."

"Yes, that's taken longer to figure out," Jack admitted. "They're all involved in different areas of government but we think we've come up with a variety of issues for the 'conference/summit' that we think will guarantee at least 80% and maybe up to 90% of them will show up. And those that aren't there . . . well, we'll have to 'contain' them one by one. But most of the focus should be on the 'attack' so I don't think the fate of a few unconnected individuals will draw that much notice."

"That should work," Booth nodded.

"But you're right," Jack went on, "there has to be more people than just the clones there to make it look authentic. We'll staff it with as much as of our people as we can but there's no way to stop unconnected persons from being involved. At the very least, they'll have to come with people from their own offices. And figuring out what to do with them has been the sticking point so far. If it were up to me, I'd just tell them that it was a matter of national security and that if they knew what was best for them they wouldn't mention anything to anyone."

"I don't think that'll be enough, sir," Booth argued, "Though you will probably have to say something along those lines at some point."

"Too bad I can't just tell them I'll shoot them if they opened their mouths," Jack groused and Booth had to bite his lips to keep from chuckling; if he did that, the pain would no longer be distant but up close and personal.

"Sadly, that really isn't an option, sir," Booth commiserated. "Though, I do agree that if it was, life would be much easier."

"Ain't that the truth," Jack shook his head in mock regret.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something soon enough, sir," Booth spoke with complete confidence.

"Yeah, I'll think of something," Jack agreed before he closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose; for the first time Booth realized how weary the General looked. He had the air of someone that had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It took him a moment but Booth soon realized that that wasn't far from the truth; after all the General _was_ the man in charge of the security of the whole planet. Brennan had told him how the one thing the IOA had agreed on was that there was no one else they would accept to lead this investigation.

"But this isn't really what I came here to tell you," Jack said a few moments later as he shook off the heavier feelings and started to smile once again.

"Yes, sir," Booth said and he once again seemed to be lying at attention. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I got an interesting phone call last evening," Jack began.

"A phone call, sir?" Booth asked, wondering who could possibly be calling the General that he needed to know about.

"Yes," Jack nodded. "Parker called me a couple of hours after he talked to Dr. Brennan. I meant to come by earlier but I got tied up at work."

"I know how busy you are, sir, don't worry about it," Booth said distractedly, surprised as to why Parker would be calling the General. "Parker called you? Was he okay? What did he want? I hope he didn't bother you . . ."

"He's fine, Booth," Jack reassured the worried father. "And he's no bother; I wouldn't have given him my phone number if I didn't want to talk to him."

"Thank you, sir," Booth responded. That answered the question of how his son got in touch with a two star General, who must have given Parker his private or cell phone number as it was doubtful the five years year old could have gotten through to him otherwise. The man was so busy and important it took almost an appointment to get him on the phone; even if you got past the Pentagon's switchboard, getting past his secretary was almost impossible. If you weren't returning a call and you weren't calling regarding an emergency (which wasn't likely since if you were calling about an emergency, you'd have a more direct way of getting in touch with him) then the best you would get was a 'he'll call you back', which he rarely did. Booth had heard that the General wasn't the most conscientious when it came to returning phone calls. He guessed the General figured if it was anyone important, they'd have known his private numbers and, anyway, they could always call back if it was really an emergency. "What did he want?" He asked again.

"Apparently, Doctor Brennan told him of you your injuries last night," Jack answered. "I guess he just wanted some assurances that you're going to be fine."

"But Bones told him I'm going to be fine," Booth protested. "Didn't he believe her?"

"He did," Jack nodded. "I think he just needed to hear it from someone else and he knows I'm your boss, maybe he thought I could order you to get well."

"Maybe he did," Booth agreed, grinning.

"I told him that you are going to be as good as new but it was going to take a little time," Jack continued recounting what he'd told Parker the night before. "And that you needed a lot of rest until then and that's why he couldn't come see you just now but I promised him that I'd make sure that he'd get to see you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sir," Booth said again. "Both for reassuring Parker last night and for giving him your phone number in the first place. I . . . I really appreciate it."

"Think nothing of it," Jack waved the thanks away. "I really like the little man; it's not a hardship to spend time with him."

"Thanks again, sir," Booth repeated. Jack nodded and changed the subject, as always uncomfortable with any kind of gratitude.

"So, I've heard you're going to have a video conference later on," Jack smiled.

"Yes, sir," Booth smiled at the thought. "Bones is back at the surface and will be seeing Parker and setting up the link in a couple of hours."

"I'm sure that will reassure him more than anything I said," Jack commented.

"I know it sure will help _me_ feel a lot better," Booth admitted. "It won't be as good as being in the same room with him, being able to hug him but it's better than nothing."

"Being face to face with your loved ones is always better," Jack agreed.

"Yeah," Booth sighed. "Unfortunately, Doc Frazier has made it pretty clear that I'm not going home any time soon."

"She told me that if your status remains as stable as it has been so far," Jack said, "she'll send you to Stargate Command tomorrow."

"That's good," Booth nodded. "But it won't get me any closer to being able to see Parker face to face. The SGC is in Colorado and Parker is in DC. You know, I even tried promising her that I'd do everything she'd tell me."

"And?"

"She didn't believe me," Booth frowned. "Not even when I reminded her that Bones would be there to make sure I didn't over-extend myself. She was very firm when she said that there's no way she's going to discharge me a day before she thinks she should."

"Well, Doc Frazier always had a bit of a Napoleonic complex," Jack said in a confidential tone.

"She sure does," Booth drawled. "I'm sure not even you could get her to change her mind." Though that was pretty much the truth, Jack was intrigued by the way Booth said it.

"What do you mean?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

"She said that the reason she didn't believe I would behave was because she had been your and SG1's doctor for too many years to think I could."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jack chuckled and shook his head. "I guess we haven't exactly been the best patients over the years."

"That's okay." Booth grinned as he admitted, "I probably wouldn't behave myself anyway." It was weird but as many times as he's he'd been told that he was now a member of SG1, it wasn't until that moment, when he was commiserating with a man that was no longer an active member of the unit, that he truly felt it.

"Probably not," Jack agreed. "Well, I might not be able to get you home any sooner but I might be able to hasten your reunion with Parker."

"Hasten it?" Booth inquired. "But how? It's a five hour flight from DC to Colorado – that's ten hours in the air round trip, not to mention the difference in time zones, for what would be at most an hour visit. I don't think it's a trip Parker should make; no matter how much I want to see him."

"I agree," Jack nodded. "But I wasn't thinking of having him fly out here. I was thinking of beaming him to the SGC tomorrow afternoon after you're settled."

"Beam him to the SGC?" Booth asked, astounded at the mere possibility. "Can you do that?"

"I don't see why not," Jack shrugged. "I am "The Man" after all."

"But don't you have to ask someone?" Booth pressed. "I don't know maybe the President or the Chiefs?"

"Not really," Jack answered. "Not for just a beam out. I'm the one that makes these kind of decisions after all."

"I don't know, sir," Booth demurred. "I mean, how would we explain it? What could we tell Parker . . . or Rebecca?"

"Rebecca?" Jack repeated.

"Parker's mother," Booth told the General.

"Ah," Jack nodded. "Well, what have they been told about your injury and where you are?"

"Bones told them I'd been injured during an operation for the military," Booth explained. "She didn't, of course, go into any details about the mission. Parker wasn't told the gravity of my injuries but Rebecca was – she wasn't too happy about not getting many details, Bones told me. As to where I am, Bones just said that I was in a high security military hospital and wouldn't really be able to receive visitors. Again, Rebecca wasn't happy, neither was Parker for that matter, but she knew enough not to ask any questions. I'm hoping the video conference later today will reassure them and settle any questions they still have."

"Good, good," Jack was saying. "Then maybe we don't really need to tell them anything. We can just tell Rebecca that I got special permission for Parker to visit you and then I or Dr. Brennan pick him up and on the way to an area hospital we're beamed to an identical place in Colorado. If we do it right, Parker doesn't ever need to know he went any further than thirty minutes from home."

"That . . . that could actually work," Booth whispered; awed once again at the ability of the General of coming up with brilliant and deceptively simple ideas.

"Of course it'll work!" Jack exclaimed. "I just have to fine tune where and how he'll be beamed out."

"Ok, well, I'll leave all that up to you then," Booth nodded. "I'll ask Rebecca and if she says yes, which I'm sure she will, I'll tell Parker during our chat."

"Good," Jack smiled. "Would you rather Dr. Brennan or I pick him up?"

"Ah, could maybe both of you do it?" Booth asked. "It's just that Rebecca might be less inclined to keep asking Bones for details if you're there looking . . . all official."

"You want me to intimidate your ex?" Jack asked, grinning. "No problem; I can do that." Booth started to shake his head and say that wasn't it but decided to let it go since that wasn't that far from the truth. "So, it's all set?"

"Yes, I think so," Booth agreed. "And thank you once again, sir. I really appreciate all you're doing for me and Parker."

"Please, it's nothing," Jack once again waved off the gratitude. "There is one other little thing I wanted to run by you. As your son reminded me last night, I had promised him to take him flying. I thought maybe I could take him this weekend? You know, get his mind of things for a little while."

"I'm sure he'll love that," Booth replied. "But are you sure you have the time? I mean, I know how busy you've been and that things really haven't settled yet; I don't want you to feel obligated to entertain Parker and make your job harder because of it."

"I've already told you," Jack reminded Booth, "I never feel obligated to do anything I don't want to do, outside of work, that is. As for making my job harder – I don't think that's possible to do right now. And the truth is," Jack paused for a moment before he continued earnestly, "that this outing is as much for me as it is for Parker. Work has been . . . difficult and I need to step away from it and think about anything else for at least a few hours. In fact, all of SG1 needs to do the same. I'm going to see to it that they take an afternoon off too. Probably the same one, as I'm going to ensure Sam comes flying with Parker and me." Booth nodded as he remembered thinking how weary the General had looked a few moments earlier; if an afternoon with Parker was going to help him decompress, who was he to deny him? Especially when he knew Parker would love it too.

"I know he'll love going with you both," Booth said. "It was all he could talk about the morning after your anniversary party."

"Good," Jack rubbed his hands together and grinned. "Then I'll set it up. I'll make him an Air Force pilot yet."

"I don't think that's fair, sir," Booth protested. "Here I am, lying in bed unable to go anywhere and you're going to go off and recruit him to the Air Force? You should at least wait until I'm on my feet and can do some recruiting of my own!"

"I don't think how that would change things, Major," Jack said loftily. "Even when you're on your feet, what are you going to show him? How to walk long miles in the desert or jungle? He's going to like flying better than anything you can show him – anytime, anywhere."

"We'll see about that," Booth muttered before something occurred to him. "Uh, sir? I'm all for you taking Parker flying but I'm not sure how Rebecca will feel about it. You might want to wait until she says 'yes' before making any plans."

"Why would she say no?" Jack wanted to know. "Hasn't Parker flown before?"

"Yes," Booth nodded. "But that was a commercial airplane not a . . ."

"What?" Jack prompted when Booth trailed off. "You think I'm going to take him up in a military plane? I admit that did occur to me but I know better, Booth. I have a friend who operates a private charter business; he'll loan me a small charter plane. Maybe when he's older, I'll take him up in a military jet."

"Yeah, we'll talk about that later," Booth mumbled. "I guess Rebecca might not have a problem with him going on a charter plane. I'll mention it to her when I talk to her today. Maybe you can talk to her about it when you pick up Parker tomorrow? She might feel better about it if she has a chance to talk to you directly about it."

"Sure, no problem," Jack agreed. "Well, I think I better go now before the good doctor comes in to tell me to leave. You need to rest." Booth started to protest but thought better of it when he noticed how tired he was feeling. He wanted to feel as good as he could when he talked to Parker; maybe a nap wasn't the worst idea ever.

"Yeah, that'll probably be for the best," Booth reluctantly agreed. "I'll talk to both Bones and Rebecca about Parker visiting me and going with you flying."

"I'll stop by tonight and we can chat a little more," Jack said as he stood up. "For now, rest. We'll talk later."

"Yes, sir," Booth nodded. "I know you don't like to hear it but thank you – for everything."

"You're welcome," Jack replied and with one last nod, he walked away leaving complete quiet in his wake. As opposed to before the General's visit, this time the quiet of the room soothed Booth into a healing sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they're not mine. I just like to borrow them and play with them. Your lovely reviews and the satisfaction I get out of playing puppet masters with their lives are all the payment I get.

**A/N:** Well, here's the next chapter. Not too much of a wait, was it? I meant to get it out a bit sooner but life's gotten more complicated lately. Still one chapter a week is pretty good, right? And the next two chapters are finished and betaed so there shouldn't be any long waits until the end. Thanks to everyone that has read and reviewed and pup for all her help betaing. This is a purely Parker fluff chapter, hope you enjoy it!!!!

**Chapter 24**

"Well," Angela said as she finished hooking up the laptop. "That's it; you're all set now."

"Thanks Angela," Booth smiled up at the artist.

"Not a problem, sweetie," Angela smiled back before checking her watch. "It's almost time, so I'll leave you alone. I'll be back later for the laptop. Tell Parker hi from me."

"I will," Booth promised and with one last smile, Angela walked away. A few moments later, Brennan appeared on the screen. "There you are," Booth smiled at the screen.

"Yes, here I am," Brennan told him dryly before smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Bones," Booth answered, rolling his eyes. "I haven't taken a turn for the worst in the last half hour." Brennan had called him half an hour before the time they had agreed on for the video conference to make sure he was awake and to let him know Angela was on her way to set up the laptop connection. He'd taken the opportunity to talk to both Brennan and Rebecca about the General's visit and his news. Rebecca had needed a little persuasion but in the end both women had agreed that Parker visiting Booth the following day was a good idea. As for the 'flying lesson', Rebecca was reserving judgment until she talked to the General himself.

"That's good," she nodded. Before either could say anything else, a child's voice could be heard from outside the camera's range saying, "Dr. Bones is that daddy? Can I please talk to him?" Booth and Brennan smiled at each other before Brennan looked down and smiled at Parker.

"Yes, Parker, that's your daddy," Brennan answered and got up from the chair she was sitting on and turned to help Parker sit on it. "Here, Parker. Sit up here and then just look at the screen and speak normally."

For the next few moments, Booth smiled as he saw the woman he loved help his son sit down in front of the computer.

"Daddy!!!" Parker cried out as soon as he saw Booth on the computer's screen.

"Hey, buddy," Booth called back. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Daddy," Parker answered. "How are you? Dr. Bones said that you got indured," Booth had to smile at the mispronunciation. "Are you whertin, Daddy?" Parker moved very close to the screen and asked, "Want me to kiss your owiee and make it all better? When I get an owiee you or mommy or Dr. Bones always kiss it and make it better."

"I'm fine, buddy, and you can kiss my owiee as soon as I see you" Booth answered sweetly. "Yes, I got hurt but I'm feeling much better and I'll be all better soon. So, please don't worry about me, okay, bud?"

"K, Daddy," Parker nodded, though Booth could still see some shadows in his eyes. "When can I see you Daddy? Dr. Bones said it could be days and weeks before you come home."

"She's right, Park," Booth agreed. "But," he added when Parker started to pout at the idea of not seeing his daddy for weeks. It wasn't that he hadn't believed Brennan, he'd just hoped she'd been wrong and his daddy would tell him he was coming home much sooner. "I don't think we'll have to wait weeks before we can see each other. I saw General O'Neill earlier on today and . . ."

"Gen'ral O'Neill?" Parker asked with a confused frown.

"General Jack," Booth corrected himself and the frown on Parker's face turned to a smile.

"You did?" He asked, excitedly; General Jack was Parker's favorite person after his daddy, mommy and Dr. Bones. "How is he? When can I see him?"

"Well, that's the thing," Booth grinned at his son. "He told me that if you'd like to come visit me, he can pick you up tomorrow and bring you to me and we can visit for a few hours." The only thing Brennan hadn't liked was the idea of leaving Booth two days in a row. Booth had pointed out that it would only be for a few minutes but Brennan had argued that Parker was more than comfortable with the General and that they knew the General would take good care of Parker, so why couldn't the General just pick up Parker by himself. In the end, Booth had agreed because Parker did love to spend time with the General and the General was about the safest babysitter Booth could think of.

"I wanna go visit you, Daddy," Parker immediately told his father, nodding his head and bouncing on his seat in excitement. "I really wanna go see you! And I'd love to see Gen'ral Jack! He's really gonna take me to see you?"

"Yes, buddy, he is," Booth answered, grinning at his son's enthusiasm. "And guess what else?"

"What?"

"Remember how he promised you he was going to take you flying one of these days?"

"Yeah," Parker answered and Booth idly thought that if he nodded his head any harder, it might just fall off.

"Well, he also told me that if you were up to it, he'd be happy to take you this weekend," Booth informed his son and he could see the delight spread across his little face before he even finished speaking.

"I'm up to it, Daddy!! I really, really am," and he nodded his head even more vigorously than before to prove that he really was up to it. "Can I go with Gen'ral Jack flying? Please, Daddy, can I??"

"You can, buddy," Booth chuckled and then winced as the movement pulled his incision but the joy on his son's face more than made up for any discomfort. "I already talked to your mom and I'll let the General know later on. But I think it's safe to say that you can plan on going flying with him and Colonel Carter this weekend."

"Colnol Carter?" Parker asked, once again frowning in confusion as he didn't know that name. He was also frowning in displeasure since he wasn't sure he wanted to share General Jack; it was bad enough his daddy was sick and wouldn't be around to play with him.

"Sorry buddy," Booth apologized. He'd forgotten that his son knew both officers by their first names and not last names. "I meant Colonel Sam; you remember her right?"

"Oooh, yeah, I 'member her," Parker nodded. "I like her; she's not a yucky, real girl but a neat one like Dr. Bones," he told his father with a grin. "She don't like dresses either; she likes to wear jeans and go ride her motosicle and she can really fight!" He added, remembering when he saw her spar that time Parker had had his first lesson with General Jack. "And Gen'ral Jack said that she can fly as good as he!"

"Yes, Colonel Sam is a very neat woman," Booth agreed, using the same words as his son. "Just like Bones. So, you don't mind if she goes, huh?"

"Nah," Parker shook his head. "She's fun!"

"Well, I'm glad you're looking forward to it, buddy," Booth told him. "Now, why don't you tell me what you've been up to these last few days?" And with that, he settled back to hear everything that had been going on in his son's life.

-----------------------

"Gen'ral Jack!" Parker cried as he ran from his room to the living room where Jack and Sam were chatting with Rebecca. "You're here! You're finally here!"

"Yep, we're finally here," Jack laughed as he reached down to tousle Parker's hair. "You waited a long time, huh?"

"Yep, forever and ever," Parker nodded his head and then turned to Sam. "Colnol Sam, hi!"

"Hello Parker," Sam smiled down at him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you," Parker answered politely with a sweet smile. "And you?" he added when his mom nudged him.

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking," Sam answered, grinning. "So, are you excited about going flying?"

"Yup," Parker grinned and almost bounced on his feet. "I really am! Can we go now?" Jack and Sam looked at each other, grinning, before turning to look at Rebecca, who sighed as she looked down at her son.

"Did you wash up?" she asked him.

"Yes, Mommy," he answered.

"Did you put your toys away?" He'd fallen asleep the night before without straightening his room and that morning she'd told him he wasn't going anywhere until it was done.

"Yes, Mommy," he nodded. "It's all done. Can I go now?"

"Okay, I guess you can go," she relented. Letting her precious son go off to fly with virtual strangers wasn't exactly easy but both Booth and Brennan had insisted that 'General Jack' and 'Colonel Sam' were responsible and trustworthy. Rebecca had taken them at their word but being the good mother that she was, she'd also done some research on the internet. Though she hadn't found much, since apparently their work was beyond classified, to her relief what she had found had only confirmed Booth and Brennan's assessment; they weren't just responsible and trustworthy, they were military heroes with an impressive number of commendations who didn't think twice about putting themselves in harm's away to save others. Meeting the General had assuaged her remaining doubts and she'd agreed to let Parker go flying with him and his wife; of course she had to admit, if only in private, the fact that the man had shown up at her house wearing his dress blues with his chest full of ribbons hadn't hurt his case any.

"Do you have everything you need?" she asked him, expertly looking him and up down.

"Yep," Parker nodded once more as he picked up his backpack. "I do." Rebecca took it from him and did a quick search to make sure he had everything she thought he'd need since what he thought he needed and what she thought he needed weren't always the same thing.

"You remember to mind the General and Colonel," Rebecca admonished Parker as she gave the backpack back. "You'll do everything they tell you, right?"

"Yes, Mommy," Parker dutifully answered.

"Okay, then," Rebecca nodded and smiled, and it was only a little forced. "Off you go." She looked at Jack and Sam before nodding to the door.

"He'll be fine, you know," Sam said softly to Rebecca as the two women lagged behind Jack and Parker on their way to the front door. "We'll take good care of him and Jack's really an excellent pilot. There's nothing for you to worry about."

"I know, I know," Rebecca sighed. "I know he's safe; it's just that . . ."

"That he's your baby," Sam finished for her. "I get it. And I promise we'll bring him back safe and sound."

"Thank you," Rebecca smiled back at the older woman, grateful for the reassurance.

"You're welcome," Sam said as they reached the front door.

"Okay Parker," Rebecca said, reaching for the five year old. "You promise to behave?" she asked again.

"Yes, Mommy," Parker answered, smiling and showing a gap between his front teeth. He'd recently lost his front tooth, seeing it missing always reminded Rebecca that her baby boy was no longer a baby.

"Off you go then," she told him as she knelt down and hugged him. "I'll see you later. And have fun, baby. I love you!"

"I will mommy, wuv u too" he said, returning the hug, before turning to the couple waiting by the front door. "Let's go," he told Jack and Sam excitedly as he walked towards them.

"Well, General Shortie, there's a plane waiting for us," Jack told Parker, making him grin at the new nickname. "Let's go find it, huh?"

"Yep, let's go!" Parker cried as he reached for the hand Jack was holding out. Jack turned to smile and nod at Rebecca before allowing himself to be led out by Parker.

"He'll be fine," Sam repeated with one last smile.

"Thanks," Rebecca smiled back and this time it wasn't at all forced. "Have a good time."

"We will," Sam told her. "It's impossible not to have fun with Jack and Parker is a fun kid." She smiled and looked towards the driveway when she heard Jack calling to her. "Well, I gotta go. We'll be back later."

"Bye," Rebecca said as the blond woman walked out to meet her husband and Parker. Despite how worried she was, Rebecca couldn't help but smile at her son's enthusiasm. He was so excited about getting to fly that he was practically shaking. But when she heard him ask whether he would be allowed to fly the plane, she closed her eyes before she quickly closed the door. She leaned her head on the wood as she took a deep breath before she shook her head and turned back into the house. The less she knew about what was going on the less likely she'd be to have a panic attack.

"Did you have fun, General Shortie?" Jack asked, a couple of hours later, as they walked from the tarmac to where he'd parked his car and had Parker giggling at his new nickname.

"Yes!" Parker vigorously nodded his head as he skipped between Jack and Sam. "I had tons of fun!!! I love flying. When can we do it again?" Jack and Sam couldn't help but laugh at the childish enthusiasm.

"Well, I'm a little busy at work but," he added when he saw Parker's face fall. "I'm sure I can take a couple of hours next weekend and we can do it again then, okay?"

Parker was disappointed he'd have to wait until the following weekend, but even at five he could tell that General Jack was a lot like his daddy and if he said he was busy, then he was busy and more importantly, if he said he'd take him flying next weekend, Parker knew he'd be going flying next weekend.

"Okay," he agreed and sweetly smiled up at General Jack. "I can't wait. I love flying," he repeated. "You think I can drive the plane again?"

"Fly the plane," Jack gently corrected Parker. "You drive a car but you fly a plane."

"Okay," Parker nodded. "So, can I fly the plane next weekend?" He asked again as he jumped up and down in his place.

"We'll see," Jack laughed. The little guy sure was persistent and Jack's new nickname for him of 'General Shortie' seemed more and more appropriate.

"So, Parker," Sam said as they reached the parking lot. "Does this mean that your career goals are still the same and this experience didn't change your mind?"

"Huh?" Parker asked, looking up at her with a frown that showed he had no idea what she meant.

"Geez, Carter," Jack said, shaking his head and grinning at his wife. "Way to use your big words there. He's not even six; he has no idea what you just said."

"He may not be not six yet," Sam told him, "but it's never too early to expose him to an extensive vocabulary."

"Only you, Carter," he shook his head and chuckled before turning to Parker, who had observed the interchange in silence. "What she meant was whether you still want to be a general when you grow up?"

"Oh, yep, I still do," Parker smiled. "I wanna tell people what to do. It's fun!"

"And you're so good at it too," Jack agreed, grinning. Sam might be right that Parker Booth was an alpha in training because he sure didn't seem to have any problems telling others what to do.

"I'm hungry," Parker suddenly announced just as they reached the car. "Can we go get something to eat?"

"Sure," Jack shrugged, he was pretty hungry himself. "Where would you like to go?"

"Chuck E. Cheese!!!" was the immediate and rather demanding answer. Jack looked at Sam, who only shrugged in answer. She didn't really care where they went; or rather, she knew that any of her preferences wouldn't be to Parker's liking so she'd go wherever he wanted to go. She could always wait and have something later on.

"Okay, then," Jack decided as he helped Parker into his car seat. "Chuck E. Cheese it is."

"Yay!" Parker exclaimed and grinned. This was turning into one of the best days ever.

More than an hour later, they finally got around to eating. For a child that had said he was hungry, Parker had sure forgotten about food as soon as he saw all the games. He'd gone from one game to another for a while before he saw one that had him jumping up and down and pulling Jack to get to it.

It was a video game that simulated flying a space shuttle; though it was in the arcade part of the restaurant where the older kids played, Parker headed straight for it with Jack in tow. When they got there, Parker immediately took hold of the controls and had Jack start the game. The game hadn't been designed for someone Parker's age but that didn't stop the five year old from getting the hand of it quite quickly - of course, the fact that he kept asking Jack for advice on how to play might have had something to do with that. Still, even with Jack's help, he should probably not have been able to do as well as he did. Jack couldn't help but once again be impressed at just how much of a natural the little boy was when it came to flying; he definitely had a future in the Air Force.

"Flying a real plane is much funner," Parker declared once he stepped back from the game.

"Yep, it sure it," Jack agreed with a smile. "You ready to go get something to eat?"

"Yep," Parker nodded.

"Okay, then let's go find Sam, shall we?" Parker nodded again and skipped in front of Jack back towards where they left Sam.

"You guys finally ready to eat?" Sam asked them when they walked up to the table where she was sitting.

"Yup," Jack nodded.

"I'm starving!" Parker told her as he sat down.

"Well, you guys have great timing 'cause the food just got here," Sam said as she put Parker's plate in front of him and then turned to see to her and Jack's plates. The trio enjoyed their food in silence for a little while; while it was treat for Parker, it wasn't exactly the ideal lunch for Jack and Sam but, it'd do for a snack until they could get real food later.

"Can we go play on the flying machine again?" Parker said when he was almost through with eating.

"Flying machine?" Sam inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"He was piloting a space shuttle," Jack grinned.

"Oh," Sam nodded. "I see."

"You know," Jack told her, "he really has great instincts for flying for one so young; he's a natural. I think he has a great future in the Air Force. You are going to join the Air force," Jack said, turning towards Parker, "aren't you, General Shortie?"

"Yup," Parker nodded and giggled at his nickname.

"Jack, do you really think it's fair to try and lure Booth's son to the Air Force when he's laid up in a hospital bed and unable to be here to defend the Army?" Sam asked with a faux frown.

"Psh, that's the same sob story he tried to sell me," Jack waved that away with a smirk. "As if him being here would make a difference. I mean, what could the Army have to offer that could possibly compete with flying a plane?"

"You're incorrigible," Sam shook her head with a smile. She knew that he really wasn't making light of what Booth had gone through but rather expressing his confidence that the Army Ranger is and will be fine. But typical Jack, he had to do it with sarcasm while putting down the Army – not that she disagreed with his sentiments concerning that, she was an Air Force Colonel after all.

"That's why you love me," he informed her and made her laugh. Sam went to pick up her soda when she noticed Parker's troubled face, which was quite a change from the happy, excited face he'd been wearing all day.

"Parker," she said, softly, the tone of her voice causing Jack to turn and look at Parker too. "Are you okay? Is anything wrong?"

"No, nothing," the five years old shook his head but his frown said otherwise. "I just . . . when can I go see my daddy?" He finally asked, looking up at them with eyes almost too wide for his small face.

Neither Jack nor Sam was surprised by the question; they'd known it was going to be asked at some point. If anything they were surprised Parker had waited this long.

"Well," Jack began, pushing his tray away a little and leaning back on his seat. "You know that your dad is in a military hospital and not just anyone can go see him, right?" When Parker nodded, Jack continued. "But seeing as I am the boss of everybody there, I guess I could make it so that you could go visit him," it was said slowly as if with great reluctance. "If you'd been a good boy, that is. Have you been a good boy?"

"Yes," Parker nodded energetically. "I been a very good boy. I pwomise."

"Umm," Jack said, pursing his lips to stop himself from laughing. "What do you think Sam? Has he been a good boy?"

"Welllllll," Sam drawled as she pretended to study Parker, who was almost shaking with excitement. "Yes," she finally nodded. "He's been a very good boy."

"Okay, then," Jack nodded decisively. "I'll make a few calls and we can visit him later today."

"Yay!!" Parker started to jump up and down but Sam stopped him.

"First," she said firmly, looking sternly at both Jack and Parker. "We have to call Parker's mom and make sure it's okay with her if we're a couple of hours late dropping Parker off tonight."

"Mommy won't say no if I ask her to go see Daddy," Parker told her earnestly.

"Nevertheless," Sam insisted. "We have to call her and see what she says."

"She's right, Parker," Jack agreed with his wife. "We have to talk to your mom first."

"But if she says yes," Parker persisted. "Can we go see Daddy then?"

"Yes, if she says yes, we can go see your dad," Jack told him.

"Thank you, Gen'ral Jack!" Parker squealed as he jumped from his seat to throw his arms around Jack's waist. "I love you," he added and did what few have ever managed to do: stunned the unflappable general into silence. The little boy didn't realize what he'd done as he turned to Sam. "Thank you, Colon Sam," he told her, as he gave her just as big a hug, and said "I love you too".

"You're welcome, Parker," Sam smiled at the little boy and returned the hug while keeping an eye on her husband, not sure how Jack would react to the unexpected development.

"Can I go play now, please?" he asked sweetly, giving her a look that Sam just knew got him almost anything he wanted.

"Sure," Sam smiled back. "But stay in this area where we can see you, okay? Don't go anywhere without telling us first."

"Okay," Parker nodded and ran towards the games.

"Jack," Sam said as soon as they were alone. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jack answered with a nod. "It's just that . . ."

"He reminded you of Charlie?" Sam ventured when he didn't finish.

"No . . . yes, a little, I guess," he sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "I guess Parker does remind me of Charlie a little but it's more than that . . . I'm remembering the good times I had with Charlie before his death, is all."

"If being with Parker is too painful . . ."

"No, it's not painful," Jack denied immediately and firmly. "I mean, I still miss Charlie, I always will and yes, it'll always hurt but it's not as bad as it was. I can now remember the good times without falling apart; I can actually enjoy the memories." When he saw that she still wasn't quite convinced, he smiled and reached to take her hand. "I'm fine, Sam, really. And I like spending time with Parker – not because he reminds me of Charlie but because I like Parker, you know?

"Yes, I do," she agreed.

"I'm fine," he repeated and tightened his hand over hers to reassure her. She nodded and then turned to look at a playing Parker.

"How about you?" Jack asked a few moments later. "Are you okay?" She turned her head with 'of course' at the tip of her tongue but the look on his face changed her mind. She sighed and lowered her eyes to their entwined hands.

"I'm fine," she finally answered. "It's just . . . I know it's only been a few months and I know that it can take longer than that but I can't help wonder if there's something wrong. After all, I'm not in my twenties, heck, I'm not even in my thirties anymore, and my body has been through so many traumas over the years. What if I can't get pregnant at all?"

"It doesn't have to be you, you know?" Jack told her. "I'm even older than you and my body has been through as much as yours. It could very well be me."

"Jack," she gave him a 'get real' look. "You already had a kid; I really don't think it's you."

"That was more than twenty years ago, Sam," he reminded her.

"So?" she asked. "I don't think time plays a factor in this situation." Jack opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it.

"Do you want us to go get checked out?" he asked instead. "Thor is still in orbit; I'm sure he'll be more than happy to check us out."

"Oh, I'm sure he would be," Sam frowned as she remembered the more than few times the little alien had offered his 'services'. "But let's hold off on that for a little longer," she paused for a moment and then added firmly, "let's wait until our second wedding anniversary and then go from there."

"Okay," he agreed; in this instance as in most others, he would do whatever she wanted to do. "Whatever you want."

"Okay," she repeated and they held each other's eyes for a few moments before she smiled and pulled back. "I better call Rebecca and see if it's alright if we take Parker to see Booth."

"Yeah," he nodded. "While you're doing that, I'll make a few calls and set that up . . . don't worry," he added when she shot him a look. "We won't go if she doesn't agree." Then they both took their cell phones out and made their calls.

Forty minutes later, Parker ran into the SGC's infirmary calling, "Daddy!"

"Parker!" Booth called back, surprised. "What are you doing here?" He asked as Parker skidded to stop next to his bed.

"Gen'ral Jack and Colnol Sam brought me," Parker pointed behind him to where Jack and Sam were entering the infirmary, both smiling at Parker's enthusiasm.

"Hello, Parker," Brennan said, leaning down to kiss and hug him.

"Hi, Dr. Bones," Parker threw his arms around Brennan's neck and returned the hug. When Brennan straightened, she brought him up and then carefully leaned towards Booth so that father and son could share a kiss and a hug also.

"Careful," she warned him in case he forgot his father's delicate condition. "Remember not to press against him or shake him."

"Yes, Dr. Bones," Parker told her as he lightly squeezed his father's neck. After a few moments, Brennan sat back down with Parker on her lap.

"Sir, Colonel," Booth nodded to the couple that was standing by the foot of his bed. "Thanks for bringing him by; I wasn't really expecting to see him so soon."

"No problem," Jack, as always, waved the thanks away. "We were in the neighborhood and thought we'd drop by." Both Booth and Brennan knew that wasn't quite truth since the SGC was located in Colorado and Parker lived in DC but they just smiled accepted the excuse for what it was. "We had a busy day that I'm sure Parker will love to tell you about," Jack added. "So, we'll leave you to it." He reached for Sam's hand and turned to leave.

"You don't have to go," Brennan began but Jack and Sam smiled. It was Sam that answered.

"We know," she said. "But this should be family time; we'll just go find Daniel and Teal'c and the rest of the team," SG1 was supposed to have the afternoon off, but Sam and Jack knew odds were very good they were still somewhere on base. "I'm sure they'll want to go and have . . ."

"Cake," Jack said before Sam had a chance to finish her sentence. She just rolled her eyes as they turned and left the infirmary.

"So, Buddy," Booth said to Parker after the couple left. "How was your day?" As his son launched into an eager narration of his day Booth smiled and relaxed against the pillows. Sure, he might be feeling slightly better than crap, he might not be able to leave the bed for the foreseeable future and God knew when he might be able to go back to duty but at that moment, he was with the woman he loved and his son, the two most important people in his world. They were together, safe and sound (if relatively in his case); there really wasn't anything else he could ask for.

* * *


	25. Chapter 25

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **No, they're not mine - at least not in real life.

**A/N:** Well, here's the last chapter; there's still an epilogue to come but that really only sets up the sequel. I'm sorry I didn't post Friday but I got sick and really didn't feel like doing much of anything. This is a shorter chapter than my usual because well, we're at the end of the line, I already did everything I set out to do with this fic so this is just some added fluff I added for you guys. I think, my beta and friend Kerry agree, that I've tied up all the loose ends by now; if any of you don't agree, please let me know what I've left hanging and I'll do my best to address it in the epilogue - or if I can't make it work there, I'll re-write this chapter. I really hope it doesn't get to that, though. Ok, as always thanks to Pup and Kerry for all their help. And thanks to everyone that reviewed last chapter. I'm sorry I didn't reply but RL has gotten kinda crazy lately. Please let me know what you think!!

**Chapter 25  
**

"How about this one?" Brennan asked as she leaned forward with the laptop so Booth could see the screen. They had decided that if they were going to officially move in together, they should look for a new, bigger place – one that was theirs and not his or hers. A house had made sense to both of them as it would give them the room to grow as a family. Right then, they were looking at house listings on the internet; it was a preliminary search only, one to find out what was available, what each liked, what they didn't like and what they would accept.

It was one of the many things Brennan had been forced to come up with to keep Booth entertained. It had been almost a month since Booth's surgery and he was at that stage where he wasn't quite well enough to move about as easily or freely as he wanted but he was well enough to resent being tied to his bed for as long as he'd been and to be bored out of his mind. In short, he was at that stage of recovery where normal patients were irritable and irritating and patients like Booth downright pains in the behind. Fortunately, the staff at the SGC's infirmary was used to dealing with that type of patient; they had after all dealt with SG1 and the rest of the SG teams for more than ten years.

Brennan had taken her vacation and sick days, of which she had more than a few, to be able to take care of Booth; even if the nurses and doctors at the SGC were capable of dealing with a petulant Booth, she still felt she should be there to keep him company and to distract him. Booth had argued that she should go back to work but she had only left a handful of times to pick up paperwork that she could do while sitting next to him. Since the team wouldn't be accepting any FBI cases while Booth was out of commission and the bodies from limbo could wait, as they weren't going anywhere, Brennan didn't feel there was any need for her to be back at work.

The fact of the matter was that even though Booth was now out of danger, the fear she'd felt when she didn't know if he'd lived or died hadn't completely left her. She knew she was probably overreacting and that acting this needy was out of character for her but she wasn't quite ready to have him out of her sight for more than a couple of hours at a time. She knew that attitude wasn't healthy for her or for him and that she would have to get over it soon enough because while he had been understanding so far, such understanding wasn't endless and he would grow impatient with her sooner or later. Already he'd told her that he expected her to go back to work once he'd been discharged. She hadn't argued but she had decided that while she would go back, it would only be part time. Whatever he said, he would need help and she was determined she would be the one to give it.

"What do you think of it?" she asked him as she shifted closer to him. Instead of answering her, however, he started to nuzzle her neck. "What are you doing?" she asked him as she turned her head to look at him but she was careful not to dislodge him.

"If you have to ask, I'm not doing it right," he smirked into her neck before he started to kiss her neck.

"Booth, you have to stop," she chided him but the only thing she did was turn her head so he'd have better access.

"Why?"

"Because we're in the infirmary," it was said on a sigh.

"So?" it was a verbal shrug.

"So we really shouldn't," not the most eloquent of answers but all she could come up with at the moment. "You're injured, Booth."

"Injured, Bones, not dead," he corrected her. "Besides, I'm doing much better now. And you're my fiancé, Temperance; this is what fiancés do." With that, Booth raised a hand and cupping her chin, turned her head towards his before leaning in to kiss her. He was also at that stage of recovery where he was doing well enough to start to feel . . . frisky.

It had been awhile since they had exchanged more than a simple kiss in greeting, so with a sigh, Brennan closed her eyes and allowed her self to get lost in the kiss. Some time later, the regular noises of a busy sickbay reminded her of where they were and that only a flimsy curtain gave them any privacy. With more of an effort than it should have perhaps taken, though it _had_ been quite a while, Brennan pulled back.

"Seeley," she said. "We need to stop," she repeated.

"Why?" he asked again.

"Booth," it was said in a warning tone as she finally pulled back.

"Okay, okay," he said, giving up with a small grimace.

"Now, what do you think of this house?" she asked yet again as she adjusted her grip on the laptop and brought it back to his attention.

"It's a nice one," he shrugged.

"It's a nice one?" she repeated. "That's all you have to say about it?"

"What else do you want me to say?" he wanted to know.

"It's not what I want you to say," she told him; she sounded just a little frustrated. "What I want is for you to tell me what you really think. If you don't, how am I supposed to know what kind of house you like and/or want?"

"Fine, fine," he gave. With an almost inaudible sigh, he finally studied the image on the screen. "It's a really nice one . . . but don't you think it's a little too big for us."

"Too big?" she frowned. "I don't think so."

"Bones, it has four bedrooms," he pointed out.

"Right," she nodded, "one for us, one for Parker, one as a guest bedroom and another as an office."

"An office? But there's a den on the first floor," he argued.

"I thought we could each have an office," she told him.

"I don't need an office," he started to protest but she shook her head.

"If you think you're going to be leaving your paperwork scattered all over our bedroom and the rest of the house," she informed him, "you're mistaken." Booth wasn't a particularly messy person, a former Ranger wouldn't be, but he did have a tendency to leave his paperwork all over the place. So far it hadn't really been a problem since he had always been careful to not do that whenever they were at her place and when they were at his she hadn't felt it was her place to say anything. But if they were going to be living together, if they were going to get a place that was theirs, then some things should be sorted before they became a problem.

"If you have an office," she continued, "you can be as messy as you want in it and I won't say anything about it."

"That sounds good," he smiled at her for a moment. "You know," he added in a tentative tone a few moments later, "one of those two extra bedrooms would also make a nice nursery." They hadn't really discussed babies before and he thought this was as a good a time as any to bring it up. As happy as he was with the way their relationship was going, having a child with her would make his happiness complete.

"A nursery?" she repeated in a whisper.

"I know we haven't really talked about this before," he said quickly before she could say anything else. "At least not since we got together and not when it pertains to our future. I know you've had your reservations about it and I hope you know I would never presume to push you do something you're against but . . . Well, I thought maybe you would have changed your mind or might be open about the possibility of . . ."

"Booth," she tried to stop him but he didn't seem to have heard her. "Seeley!" she called out and had him closing his mouth and turning to look at her. "It's true that I've never really wanted kids; that I've never thought they'd be part of my future. But that was before you, before I fell in love with you. I'm not saying I'm ready to have a kid right now," she warned him when he grinned. "Or that I'll ever be ready. What I am saying is that for the first time in my life that option is not out of the question. I can't promise you anything but . . ."

"You don't need to promise me anything," he interrupted her with a gentle smile and a squeeze of her hand. "The only promise from you that I need, that you'll be with me no matter what, you've already given me. Everything else . . . well, everything else we'll deal with as things come up. Just knowing that you're open to the possibility of kids is enough for now. Whether we have them or not . . ." he trailed off and shook his head. "No one can know the future; even if you were sure you wanted kids, there's no guarantee we'd have them."

"That's true," she allowed.

"So," he said, "you okay with the possibility of turning one of those rooms into a nursery at some point?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I take it this means you're okay with a four bedroom house?"

"I guess," he shrugged. "But do we need one with a finished basement, a huge backyard _and_ a pool? Don't you think that's just a tad too much? Not to mention way too expensive."

"No, I don't think it's too much," she denied. "A finished basement makes sense since buying a house with an unfinished basement would just mean that we'd have to finish it. I don't really want to deal with the hassle."

"We could look for a house without a basement," he pointed out.

"But a house with one is better," she argued. "It not only gives you storage and a separate space for a laundry but it would also provide a space for Parker to play in when the weather is bad and he can't go outside. And a big backyard would provide him a place to run and play around outside when the weather permits it; so we do need that too. As for the pool, I like swimming; it's a great sport and a proven way to reduce stress. We don't need one but I would certainly like to have one."

"All of those are good points, Bones," he conceded. "But the kind of house you're talking about is bound to be very expensive."

"So what?" she shrugged. "I can afford it."

"Yes, I know you can," he agreed. "But I can't."

"I wasn't suggesting you could," she said slowly before she tilted her head and examined him through narrowed eyes. "Are you saying that you have a problem with me being able to afford it?"

"No," he shook his head. "I don't have a problem with you having more money than me or spending it however you want."

"But?" she prompted him; she knew him well enough to know there was a 'but' coming.

"But," he repeated with an uncomfortable shrug. "I'm not entirely comfortable with you using your money to buy the house _we'll_ be living in."

"This is about your pride, isn't it?" she asked him. "This all goes back to your alpha male tendencies and how you think you have to be provider?"

"Bones, I . . ." he started to speak but he wasn't sure what he was going to say. She was right; it was his male pride that protested the fact that if they were to buy a four bedroom house with a finished basement, a den, a big backyard and a pool, she would be contributing more than 50% of the price.

"Booth," she said seriously and firmly, not giving him a chance to say anything. "I know you're not going to make a big deal out of this. I know you wouldn't allow your pride to deprive your family of what could be the ideal house. Would you?" She paused and studied him intently before adding, "I know you know that it's not important who gives what or who has more; you know that money is not important and that one partner having more than the other doesn't mean anything . . . unless the couple themselves make it an issue. I mean, Hodgins has more money than Angela but it doesn't mean he has all the power in their relationship, does it? And there wasn't anything wrong or weird with Angela moving into his house, was there?" She paused to wait for his nod, which he grudgingly gave. "And if there's nothing wrong with Angela accepting Hodgins' money, then there can't be anything wrong with us buying the house we want – even if it means that I provide more than half the price, right?"

"No," he agreed, because what else was he going to say? She had made a perfectly logical argument and he would come out as a petty Neanderthal if he were to refute it. If he didn't see anything wrong with Angela living in Hodgins' mansion (because by no means could where they live be called only a house) or with Angela calmly accepting the fact that Hodgins had way more money than her, then he shouldn't see a problem with Brennan having more money than him or with her spending that money for their mutual benefit.

She was also right that money would only become an issue if _he_ made it an issue because he knew she wouldn't. She didn't do what she did because of the money or the acclaim or the fame; those were just by-products of her doing what she loved and he knew she didn't find them to be particularly positive by-products. Acclaim and fame were something to be tolerated and money . . . money was another tool, something she had that she could use to make things easier or better. To her, it wasn't about power and it wasn't about control because she didn't think in those terms. If he made a big deal out of this, he would be the one making it about those things.

Was he really that insecure, that petty that he would begrudge her the right to spend her hard earned money in whatever way she chose? All because of some antiquated idea that the man should be the one to provide for the family? If it was the other way around, if he was the one with the money, he knew he would not only expect but would also insist that he be the one to pay for the house and he would be dismayed and hurt if she didn't agree. To expect anything else of himself would not only be hypocritical but it would also be an insult to her and to their relationship; it would be as good as saying that she didn't have the same right to take care of him as he did to take care of her.

From the moment he'd met her, he'd encouraged her to push past her comfort zone, to experience new things and to not be afraid of her feelings. And he had always been proud of who she was, what she'd accomplished and how much she'd managed to overcome. The last thing he had ever wanted was to limit her in any way or for her to be less than who she was. But, he realized, that was exactly what he would be doing if he objected to her buying the house because the only reason he had for doing so was his pride. It wasn't as if he would quit working and become a kept man; that would never happen.

He would always contribute to their lives together; financially, it might not be the same as what she contributed, but there was more to life than money. And to get hung up on the money, to make a big deal out of the fact that she had more than him would make him a lesser man than he wanted to be, a lesser man than she expected him to be, a lesser man than she deserved. It would also be a betrayal of the love, respect and trust that was at the core of their relationship. The bottom line was that if he couldn't swallow his pride and accept the fact that she had the same right as him to provide for their family to the best of her abilities, then he wasn't worthy of her.

"You're right, Bones," he finally told her with a small smile. "It doesn't really matter who pays how much. What matters is that we find our ideal house."

"Exactly," she nodded. She studied him for a few moments to be sure he was being truthful and not just saying what she wanted to hear. When she was satisfied, she went back to the original subject. "So, do you like this house?"

"I'm not sure," he said, slowly, looking closer at it. "The basement is finished but only has one room, aside from the laundry/storage space, right?"

"Yes," she answered.

"I think we need more than one finished room in the basement."

"Why?"

"Because," he explained, "If we do have a kid later on, what happens to my office? Or, if I keep my office, what happens to the guest bedroom? I think we need another room just to be on the safe side. And we need to make sure that the pool has a fence around it and that the house has an alarm."

"We can install those ourselves, Booth," she protested. "They don't have to be present when we buy it."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Still, I'm not sure about this one. There's something I don't quite like."

"Really?" she asked. "What?"

"I'm not sure," he said slowly. "I think it's the driveway. Too long; it'll be a bitch to clean in the winter. You know, if we're going for our dream house, we really should look for one with a two car garage and a fireplace. Oh, and it should definitely have a family room. Though, I suppose we could make one in the basement – it could be the same as Parker's play room."

"All of a sudden, you have a lot of ideas and requirements, don't you?" she tilted her head and studied him with an amused smile.

"Well," he shrugged. "If we're going to spend a nice chunk of our lives there, I might as well like the place."


	26. Epilogue

**Aliens in the City**

**Disclaimer: **No, they're not mine - at least not in real life.

**A/N:** Well, here it is the epilogue. It's been a long and crazy ride but we're finally here - the end of Aliens!!! I gotta tell you, sometimes I didn't think we'd make it. This story has had a few 'arcs' but they all came together in the end, didn't they? I hope they did; I tried my best to tie up all the lose ends. Although at times, it seemed like I had written more ends that I knew. Still, I finally finished it and I'm proud of it - as proud as I am of Men. They were both sort of experiments since I'd never tried anything like it before; well, Te Amare was pretty big too but I think these two were more thought out than that one. And now that Aliens is done, I'm crazy enough that I'm planning on starting another adventure. I'll be writing the sequel to Aliens - working title: Squints in Space. I'll be reworking an already existing fic of mine: SG1 in Atlantis, which was set in the same universe as Te Amare and I will now bring it into step with the crossover world. So, I'll have the cast of three shows to work with but that's not the new adventure I'll be trying. What I want to do is write two versions, one directed at each show's audience and posted it at each fandom. So, don't expect regular, fast posting - but you should be used to that, right? I'm not sure how it's going to work out but I do have about 10 chapters of SG1 in Atlantis that I just have to re-work and add the Bones scenes. The other problem and the reason why I never finished writing SG1 in Atlantis is that I didn't really have a plot. I just wanted to see SG1 in the city of the ancients but once I got them there and set somethings up, I ran into a wall. So, if any of you guys have any plots you'd like to see, feel free to tell me. Maybe I can work it into the story and finally come up with a middle and an ending! Well, I'll stop now or this A/N will be longer than the epilogue. I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the rest of the fic. I want to thank everyone for reading and coming along for the ride. Special thanks to pup for all her help betaing and brain-storming and to Kerrie and Mendenbar for reviewing almost if not every chapter and for all the encouraging words - you guys really make writing more fun! Thanks!!!

**Epilogue**

Booth stood up and walked towards the closed office door after the secretary told him to 'go on in'. Though it wasn't the first time that Booth had been to this particular office, he was always surprised by it, always a little taken aback by it. He felt almost as if he was walking into the principal's office and since Booth was an Army Major and the man he was going in to see was an Air Force Major General that was a surprisingly accurate and somewhat disturbing analogy. Of course, the General had far more control over Booth than a principal had ever even dream of having; which was only fair since Booth had voluntarily joined the Army but going to High School hadn't really been voluntary.

"Booth," Jack said, getting up to greet him with his hand held out.

"General," Booth replied, shaking the older man's hand.

"How are you?" Jack asked as he walked back to his chair.

"Much better, thank you," Booth said and sat down with a sigh and set the cane every one insisted he use next to him. This was the first time he'd been out by himself since he'd been shot almost three months ago, as Brennan hadn't really been willing to let him out of her sight before then. It was also the first time he'd been anywhere but the rehab center and the walk from the parking lot to the General's office, which was considerably longer than the walk to the center, had taken more out of him that he'd care to admit – even to himself.

"Janet tells me that she's signing you off for light duty in two weeks if you keep progressing as you have so far," Jack commented.

"Yes," Booth nodded. "Finally," he added with a rueful grin. He'd been restricted to bed rest for eight weeks - two in the SG1 infirmary and six at home. Brennan, who had taken six weeks off work and had only gone back part time since then, had kept a more than close eye on him and had not allowed him to do anything but lie in bed and walk, very slowly, to the bathroom and, later on, into the living room. Though his recuperation had been free of any setbacks, Janet had opted on the side of caution and kept him on bed rest for the full six weeks so that he had only started his rehab two weeks ago.

"I know how you feel," Jack agreed with a heartfelt sigh, which reminded Booth of what Brennan had told him the night before.

"How are you feeling, sir?" Booth asked, with concern in his eyes.

"Me?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Booth said, shifting in discomfort. Neither he nor the General were men given to talk about private matters with strangers and even though they'd had a couple of very private conversations already, both had been initiated by the older man, never by Booth himself. "Bones told me about the . . . incident."

"You mean about how I passed out a couple of days ago," Jack elaborated with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah," Booth nodded. "Are you okay?" he pressed, his concern a little bit more evident than before.

"Yes, I am," Jack said decisively. "It was nothing really," he added, waving the matter aside. "I take it my lovely wife's the source of your information."

"Yes," Booth answered. "Colonel Carter told Bones about it last night."

"Those two have gotten really close lately, haven't they?" Jack asked, trying to change the subject.

"Uh huh," Booth agreed. Brennan and the Colonel had always gotten along very well but had grown even closer since Booth's shooting. It seems that that unfortunate event had served to deepen their bond. "Guess they have a lot in common."

"I guess they do," Jack replied.

Booth hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should continue to push the issue of the General's health. He was fairly certain the other man would not appreciate it and would not be very forthcoming but Booth was concerned. According to Brennan, the Colonel and the rest of SG1 were very worried, which was something Booth completely understood. The General was a strong man; one that, despite his age, was as fit as a man in his prime. In the ten plus years that SG1 have known him, the only times he'd been laid up had been because of injuries in the field; he'd never really been sick. He wasn't the type to just collapse for no apparent reason. Given that history, it was more than reasonable that they were all, as Vala had put it, freaking out.

Jack noticed the Major's hesitance and with a sigh, he decided he might as well address the issue head on so they then could move on.

"I'm fine, Major," Jack repeated. "It was probably exhaustion and stress; this whole thing with Ba'al has had me pretty stressed and working over time," he admitted. "But I'm fine . . . I'll be fine."

"Yes, sir," Booth nodded. He knew that was as much as the other man would say on the subject; so it would have to be good enough.

"But that is sort of the reason I wanted to see you today," Jack added.

"Sir?" Booth asked, not understanding.

"Well, even though I know I'm perfectly fine, my lovely wife doesn't share that belief," Jack rolled his eyes. "And somehow she, along with Janet, convinced the President that I need a vacation. Which is an idea I would normally be all for but there are still some loose ends with the Ba'al situation that need . . ." he trailed off and shook his head with a sigh. "I guess Davis can take care of it. He'll have to because starting tomorrow I'm on leave. Me and the Mrs. are leaving for Colorado Springs tomorrow afternoon but I wanted to talk to you before I left because I have a mission for you."

"A mission, sir?" Booth asked eagerly as he sat forward on the chair.

"Yes," Jack nodded.

"Ah, sir, I'd love to go on a mission," Booth forced himself to say as he thought what Brennan and Dr. Frazier would say about it. "But Dr. Frazier won't clear me for active duty for another . . . who knows how many more weeks," he said with a frustrated frown.

"I know that," Jack said airily. "This mission won't be physically taxing at all. In fact, it'll take you three weeks to get where you need to go."

"Three weeks?" Booth asked. "Where on Earth would you be sending me that would take . . ." he trailed off when he noticed the look on Jack's eyes. His own eyes widened as he realized what the other man meant. "I wouldn't be going anywhere on Earth, would I?"

"Nope, you wouldn't," Jack grinned as he leaned back on his chair and crossed his fingers on top of his stomach.

"Where would I be going?" Booth asked, more than a little intrigued. "And why would it take three weeks to get there? Gate travel is almost instantaneous."

"Yes it is but you won't be gating there," Jack was enjoying this little game.

"Why not?"

"Because we don't have enough power for regular Gate travel there," another cryptic answer that did nothing but whet Booth's curiosity.

"Not enough power?" Booth repeated. "So, I take it this place is very far away?"

"Yep," Jack nodded.

"What about the Asgard's technology?" Booth asked. "Don't we have Asgard technology that could get us there faster?"

"It is Asgard's technology that makes the trip be only three weeks long," Jack shrugged.

"Ok, you have to tell me where you'd be sending me," Booth grinned. "And what the mission is because you're killing me of curiosity here." Jack laughed and shook his head before sobering up and answering him.

"You'll be going to Atlantis where I want you and your team to teach the military personnel there how to conduct an effective criminal investigation."

**The End!!**

**A/N2: **Hehehe, I'm thinking some of you might be cursing me out right about now. I'm kinda evil for leaving it there, aren't I??? lol Originally, this was supposed to be longer, with Jack and Booth going into what the mission would be but when I wrote and I got to this line it just felt done. And I couldn't not leave it there. I figured a little bit to whet your appetite for the sequel. So, is it whet it? A couple of things, Jack's health . . . if any of you have read SG1 in Atlantis, you know that this is actually a pretty big plot point there - it has a lot to do with the development of the story. So, I wasn't just throwing it here to throw it, it's here for a reason. I'm also writing a new one shot for the SG1 series Encounters, where we talk about it a little more. It's funny how I'm able to bring all of these things together; you'd think I planned it that way but I really didn't. About who's going on this little intergalactic trip . . . I'll be sending the whole team, I might leave Zack behind though. The fact is he's a hard character for me to write; you might have noticed that I don't really write him all that often, it's usually a few lines here and there. And since he's no longer on the show, I might just write him out of this universe. I'm not sure. What do you guys think? Also, they're going to be gone for a few months, and I don't want to leave Parker behind. I've pretty much resolved how I can bring him along. Do you guys have any thoughts about it? Well, I hope you let me know what you thought of this fic and what you think of my ideas for the sequel!! Thanks for reading!!


End file.
